Phone Calls and Fright Nights
by Penelope Cross
Summary: It starts off as a dead animal on her door step and some freaky phone calls.  What happens though, when it progresses to full on terror?  How will Santana handle it and how will it change her relationship with Brittany forever?  Better story inside.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Something inspired by the Halloween season. The story is a horror story but it's also a Brittana story. This is not the same story or Santana that's in Miles to Go Before I Sleep, my other story. It's just an idea I got and wanted to start. I doubt I'll finish by Halloween, but I needed to get it started at least. You should also know that when this is happening doesn't matter. Blaine is there, so you can assume senior year, but I'm not going to follow any plot from Season 3. I just love having Blaine around. Finally, you should know I own none of the characters. If only I had been so brilliant to make them up. But alas! Anyway, read, enjoy, please review!

**Chapter 1**

Santana Lopez was running late. Not really late, but late enough for it to piss her off. She liked getting up a bit earlier every morning so that she could go get Brittany a little earlier than she needed so they could sit in her car with it's, thank god, darkened windows and make out. It was the best part about her morning. She couldn't miss it.

She put on her jacket and buttoned it up. It wasn't particularly cold outside but Santana Lopez hated being even a bit chilly. She liked layers and didn't care if her jacket covered up her Cheerios outfit. She'd remove it before she went into school, along with the sweatpants she had pulled over her skirt.

Don't misunderstand, Santana fucking loved getting to wear her Cheerios outfit all the time. It was a status symbol and got her whatever she wanted. But in the fall and winter, it made her want to die. She was always cold during the winter months. The only thing she liked about the changing seasons was the clothes. She loved being able to put on layers. Plus, winter clothes were cute. Especially on Santana.

But then again, what wasn't cute on Santana?

She smiled to herself and checked her reflection one last time in the mirror hanging in the entrance way. Her dad was already gone to work or hadn't gotten back yet. It was hard to tell sometimes. He worked in the ER so his hours were just a bit too spastic for Santana to remember. And her mother...

Well she hadn't been around in a while. But whatever.

She grabbed her school bag and headed out the door, closing it and remembering, this time, to lock it. She was bad about things like that. Her dad always warned her, especially with the amount of time she spent home alone to be more careful. But it was hard to remember. Sometimes Santana just felt invincible.

She pressed a button on her key ring and her car blinked it's headlights and the doors unlocked. She walked down the path to her car but stopped dead. In the middle of the path there was a dead rat. Santana didn't know what to think. It wasn't one of those small, cute mice you saw a neighbor cat eating and felt sorry for, it was a huge ass rat, dead, tongue lolling. Santana looked at it for a moment, confused.

Sure, it was just a rat. But something about it bugged her. Why was it here, on her path? She didn't own a cat. The neighbor had a small dog but it didn't go outside often, especially during cold weather. She stared at it then remembered she was running late.

She slid into the leather seat of her car expecting it to be cold, but was so glad she had started her car ten minutes before via remote. The interior was warm, toasty even and Santana felt immediately better. A nice warm car ride. A good way to start a morning.

You know what would be even better though?

And there she was. Santana knew her way to Brittany's house better than she knew her way home. The girl was waiting on the front porch looking adorable. Brittany loved fall and winter. It had the best holidays, she would tell Santana. Brittany jogged to the car and wrenched the door open. It was uncharacteristically cold for the time of year, early October. The cold wind whipped into the car and Santana shuddered.

She fucking hated cold. Brittany jumped into the passenger seat and shut the door quickly, knowing this about her friend.

"Hey," she says loudly. Ever chipper in the morning. She blew some bangs out of her face and smiled at Santana.

If Santana could spend every morning looking at that smile, well, she didn't know how she couldn't be happy. "Hey," she responded, smiling back. She wasn't as generally enthusiastic as Brittany, but she was enthusiastic because of Brittany and that is enough.

"Nice and toasty," Brittany giggled buckling herself into the passenger seat.

"You know I can't take the cold."

Santana looked over her shoulder to back out of the driveway. Brittany turned the radio on and looked for the best song with which to start the morning.

LINE BREAK

Santana parked in one of the student lots behind the school. She sits with Brittany in her lap, kissing her. The car still running and the heat going. Brittany felt like a furnace on top of Santana and when she broke away from Santana's mouth to kiss her jawline then down her neck Santana felt like she was going to catch on fire. The car was stifflingly hot.

Santana moaned slightly and felt Brittany smile into her neck. Santana's hands draped naturally on Brittany's waist. She felt good there, it was her default hand placement position. Brittany, though, had her hands tangled in Santana's hair.

"I'm so happy you're mine now," the blonde whispered. Brittany's warm breath on Santana's neck drove the young Latina crazy. She felt a need growing between her legs and shifted uncomfortably beneath the blonde.

"What're you talking about?" She managed to say it without sounding too worked up. "I've always been yours."

She gasped as Brittany sucked on her neck in just the right spot. Brittany pulled away and Santana sighed, wanting her back. She found her eyes, dark brown and blue locked together. Intimacy that Santana craved from Brittany.

"But now you're all mine. Now that we're together."

Santana smiled. Together. She loved the way Brittany said it. It meant it was real. They're together. Committed. It scared the hell out of Santana. She didn't know what she was doing, sometimes. She was dating a girl who was her best friend. She knew what it looked like on the outside, that she was dating this girl and they were all gay and blahblahblah.

It wasn't like that though. Brittany wasn't just a girl, she was _Brittany. _She was everything Santana had ever felt she needed and then some. It was completely different. Santana Lopez was in love with her best friend who happened to be a girl. Ridiculously in love with her best friend who happened to be a girl. She reached up and kissed the blonde girl lightly on the lips.

"I love how I can just do that," she said eyes still closed.

"You know what would be even more sexier," Brittany said kissing her lips then back down the other side of her neck.

"Mmm," Santana moaned.

"If you'd do it in public."

Santana froze. Her body immediately turned itself off and the heat in the car went from being comfortable unbearable. Brittany felt the change and pulled away. She looked at Santana hard, but Santana couldn't read her expression.

"What?" Brittany seemed almost annoyed.

"What? Nothing." Santana said quickly. Brittany sighed and tried to move back to the passenger seat. A difficult task since the two girls seemed to be melded together.

Santana held her hips in place. She hated the times Brittany had to part from her, especially if they were arguing. "Look," Santana began She held the blondes bright eyed gaze. "I'm trying, okay. This is hard for me. I'm just now starting to accept that I'm attracted to women. I'll get there. I'd do anything for you, Brittany."

Brittany smiled, but it was a hollow smile that made Santana's heart plummet in her chest. She knew she was the cause of the smile and she didn't like it. "I know you'd do anything for me, Santana, but I want you to do this for you. You need to do this for you. Not me."

They lapse into a comfortable silence. Brittany was right Santana knew it. Coming out was something she couldn't just do, time was needed. She needed a boost in the right direction and she knew she wasn't getting that from Brittany. She'd either have to find that push from someone else or...fuck, just do it herself.

She exhaled roughly.

"I know you're trying," Brittany said. Her smile full again. Santana smiled back, she couldn't help herself. She kissed her girlfriend on the lips, slowly, lingering. She wanted to taste Brittany. Savor her. Brittany kissed her back and slid her tongue across Santana's bottom lip causing the brunettes breath to hitch in her throat.

"San," she whispered against full lips.

"Hmm," Santana whispered inbetween a kiss.

"We're going to be late." Brittany kissed down Santana's neck again. Damn, she knew all the right places.

"Don't care," Santana said quickly pulling Brittany closer to her. Brittany's hips ground into hers and she gasped loudly. "Oh god."

Brittany stopped kissing and leaned her forehead against Santana's shoulder. "We're really going to be late if we keep going."

Santana sighed and leaned her head back. She met Brittany's eyes and smiled. "Fine."

It was a bit awkward maneuvering themselves in the car, trying to fix their slightly mussed hair and adjust make up. They grabbed their bags, Santana switching off the engine and they made a run for the school. The shock of the cold wind on Santana's bare legs made her shiver immediately. Next time it's cold, fuck it, she was wearing pants. Coach could just deal with it.

Had she mentioned how much she hated cold weather?

As soon as they made it inside though, they felt the heat. Damn, it sucked in the spring when the school couldn't figure out how to turn the heat off but it felt so good during the winter. Santana looked at her phone.

They had six minutes to get to first period. They linked pinkies and ran.

LINE BREAK

The day was slow. Santana got bored in her classes where she didn't have Brittany, which was all of the ones in the morning, but thankfully, her class right before lunch was Glee.

She walked into the choir room and found her girl sitting in the back row talking animatedly to Mike Chang. She smiled. All she wanted to do was go sit with her, laugh with her. Hold her hand, sneak a kiss when she could. But something in Santana wouldn't let her. Something inside of her was terrified of what could happen.

She knew that the people in Glee would be okay with whatever it was that she had with Brittany. But she wasn't like Kurt. She knew herself and knew she couldn't live with even a fraction of the shit he'd gone through, let alone drag Brittany with her. Santana reignedherself in and sat in the back row with Brittany. Too many big thoughts for Glee club.

The blonde turned to smile at her and brushed a hand surreptitiously against her leg. Santana felt her heart jump in her chest. Brittany was already talking with Mike again. Halloween.

"I think a ninja would be super cool for you." Brittany said enthusiastically to Mike. "You're Asian and you dance really good, that's like, what a ninja is."

Mike smiled, humoring Brittany's child-like view of things. "Tina wanted me to go with her as the corpse bride and whoever Johnny Depp voiced."

"Of course she'd be the corpse bride," Santana scoffed. She looked up, not realizing the comment had been out loud. Mike looked unsure of how to take the response. Brittany was giving her the, 'Come on, San.' pouting expression. "It just like, fits her." She added as an afterthought.

Mike nodded. "Yeah, she's already got the costume, I think. Which is weird but you know how she dresses." He drifted off for a second. "What about you two?"

"I'm totally going as a ghost this year."

Santana wasn't the only one who gave Brittany a questioning look. "Britts, it's Halloween and you're going to wear a sheet over your head?"

"Or I was thinking pumpkin or a ballerina." She looked at Mike then Santana. "What? A pumpkin is totally Halloween-y."

"But it's lame." Santana said frowning at the prospect

Brittany frowned in return. "Fine then, what're you going to be?"

"Devil in a red dress." Mike smirked and Santana didn't miss it. "Look, save your sarcasm. It's perfect for me. Plus, Halloween is just an excuse for girls like to me to dress a bit more...provocatively. I'll wear a hot red dress that'll have the football team drooling and then I'll add some horns or something."

Brittany giggled. Santana wasn't sure why.

"Well thought out then, Santana." Mike said smiling. Santana looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed. She knew that Mike had no idea how to talk to her. Santana wasn't exactly the easiest person to have a conversation with, but she was trying. This was progress.

"But Brittany, you can not go as a pumpkin. I liked the Ballerina idea, though."

"Maybe I'll go as Ke$ha. I really liked that outfit I wore when we sang Tik Tok." She was zoned in her own world thinking hard. Santana knew that Halloween was a big deal for Brittany. She took Brittany and her younger sister around their neighborhood every year, even though she had stopped going herself like, five years ago. None of the parents or families seemed to mind Brittany. They actually all really enjoyed her costumes and her enthusiasm.

"I love that idea." It was true. Ke$ha was hot, Brittany as Ke$ha? Hotter. Santana crossed her legs, feeling a familiar tingling building in her.

Brittany noticed and smiled. "Tease," Santana whispered.

"I think Artie should go as a transformer." It was a sudden, random comment that caught Mike and Santana off guard. He had just rolled in, so, Santana supposed, it wasn't too random.

"That's actually a pretty interesting idea," Mike said. Santana wasn't surprised. All guys loved transformers.

"Right?" Brittany's enthusiasm returned ten-fold.

Honestly, Santana didn't care what anyone else went as, but Brittany could not spend Halloween walking around with a sheet over her head. That just wasn't right.

LINE BREAK

The rest of the day wasn't nearly as interesting as talking about costumes in Glee. Her classes were boring and most of them were just there to fill in space. She didn't really need any of them except for English and Math and Glee, of course, but she needed that in a different way.

She only had three classes with Brittany. Glee, then her last two, Math and English. Santana loved spending all the time she could with the long-legged beauty but out of all the classes they could have had together, they had to get the two classes Santana actually had to pay attention in to pass?

It was still early in the year. She could pass notes to Brittany or whisper to her in the back without it being a huge detriment. Just as long as she turned her homework in at some point.

LINE BREAK

Cheerios practice was grueling. The squad wasn't scheduled to practice inside for another week even though it was freezing outside. Santana was co-head and was expected to tough through anything Sue or the weather threw at her.

But this was fucking ridiculous. She was shivering like a tiny, wet dog all through the practice and when Sue finally yelled at them to get their mediocre selves into the locker rooms she was relieved.

Not all of the girls showered after practice. It was kind of a thing only those with seniority did. The freshman girls were still too nervous about their bodies and not as comfortable with the other girls yet. Santana liked it like that though. She didn't have to wait for a shower or anything. She stripped out of her uniform in the shower stall and let the hot water run.

She loved the heat. She could stand under the pounding water all day.

"Santana?" The voice brought her back to reality. "Come on, San, hurry up."

It was Brittany. Ever impatient. Santana didn't know who was still in the locker room so she resisted the knee-jerk reaction to invite the blonde into the warm water with her. She sighed and finished up her shower quickly. As soon as the water was off though she hated herself for not staying in the shower. The locker room was warm but it wasn't as warm as the water.

Santana wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the stall. Brittany was there, dressed and ready, bottom lip stuck out.

"I'm hurrying, I promise." Santana toweled off her hair and then went to her locker. She pulled out clothes and her keys. "Can you go start my car?"

"It's cold." Brittany said.

"But if you start it now then it'll be warm inside when we leave." Santana didn't want to get into her car and sit on leather seats without it first being warmed up. Brittany sighed and took the keys. "You don't actually have to go outside and start it manually, there's a button on the ring."

"I know," the blondes voice floated back towards Santana. She smiled and got dressed.

LINE BREAK

Santana hated and loved Cheerios practice. It felt good to be active and moving and being in charge. At the same time, though, she hated getting yelled at like she was incompetent by Sue Sylvester. Still, at least it was an equal thing. If she got yelled at, so did everyone else.

The one thing Santana hated and loved about Cheerios the most is what it did to her sex drive. Something about being tossed around and moving and constantly being pushed made her extremely in need of some time alone with Brittany.

So, it came as no shock to Brittany that as soon as the front door had shut Santana had her pushed against the door frame and was kissing her. Brittany smiled. She had been expecting this. It was a routine, something she knew Santana needed after a particularly brutal practice and this one had been brutal.

She kissed Santana gently, slowly, knowing it would only drive her nuts. It was almost like a game to Brittany. She wanted to drag out the need from Santana. It was amazing, to feel need from such a powerful force as Santana.

Her plans changed when she felt Santana's tongue on hers. She wanted her too. They shed off their coats and whatever extra garments they had on to protect against the cold.

They broke apart. Santana looked at the blonde, taking in how her lips looked so perfect, how her eyes had darkened with desire. She kissed her lips slowly and Santana could feel Brittany pushing her backwards. Santana knew the blonde wanted to go upstairs.

Their lips parted and Santana hated every second she wasn't pressed against Brittany. They climbed the stairs and found each other again in the hall. Santana thought it was pretty lame that they had to get to the bedroom. Wasn't the hallway good enough?

Brittany sensed this and pulled Santana to the bedroom.

They were completely alone in the house.

Santana was pushed onto the edge of her bed by Brittany. She smiled at the girl who leaned down to kiss her gently, Brittany's hair curtaining around Santana. Brittany crawled onto her lap, straddling her. Santana leaned her head back and looked at the blonde. They hold eye contact.

Santana's heart pounded in her chest. This felt right. It always felt right.

Brittany captured her girlfriends lips and Santana's hands went to her waist instinctively. They stay linked for a while, kissing, sucking, enjoying each other. Santana would have been fine like this, just like in the car this morning. Brittany was intoxicating and any type of contact felt like so much sometimes that it was overwhelming. Her love for the blonde had only grown stronger lately. Then Brittany's hips ground into hers and she remembered her motives. She put her arms around the blonde and flipped her over; a move she had lots of practice with.

Santana crawled on top of Brittany and their lips met again. She letsher hands wander down Brittany's body and grazed her chest. She stopped at the hem of her shirt and let her finger run across the skin. She felt the muscles in Brittany's stomach spasm and smiled into their kiss. Brittany groaned.

Santana broke away from the blonde beneath her and pulled at her top, Brittany lifted up, helping her remove the shirt. She unclasped her bra for Santana and tossed it aside. Santana kissed Brittany's lips before making her way slowly down her neck, down the valley between her breasts. She left little kisses over her skin and Brittany squirmed beneath her.

Santana knew that Brittany was perfect, that she was beyond anything she ever deserved. She was driven by desire but all Santana could feel was love. This immense amount of love that she sometimes didn't know how to deal with. Like it would burst out of her chest if she wasn't able to show Brittany just how much she loved her Santana kissed every inch of Brittany she could reach, needing to delve into Brittany, bathe in who she was.

The heat building in between Santana's legs was almost unbearable. God she was becoming easy. Brittany wasn't even naked and Santana still had a shirt and sweatpants on. She sucked a nipple into her mouth and Brittany arched her back. Santana trailed kisses to her other nipple.

"Oh, San," Brittany moaned lightly. It was enough to make Santana feel crazed. She kissed her way down Brittany's toned stomach and paused at the hem of her pants. She kissed the skin there softly as she began to slowly, agonizingly slowly remove the offensive garment.

An annoying ringing broke the moment. Santana looked up, about to pull Brittany's pants off. Her phone was ringing. She ignored it and continued her work.

Brittany lifted her lower body off the bed and Santana pulled her pants and panties off of her in one move. Brittany was naked beneath her. She took a moment to fully grasp that thought. The most gorgeous girl in the entire school, hell, probably in all of fucking Lima was in her bed. Santana kissed Brittany gently on the lips before moving off the bed. She knelt down by it's edge and pulled Brittany close to her hooking the long, toned legs over her shoulders.

Santana placed gentle kisses on the inside of Brittany's thigh and Brittany whimpered. "Santana, please."

The phone rang again. Santana growled angrily. This was becoming a total mood killer. She grabbed the phone from her pocket and hit the silent button, throwing it aside. She looked up at Brittany who looked like she was about halfway gone already.

"Please," she repeated. Brittany had a hand tangled in her gold locks, the other clinging to the sheet for support.

It was more than enough for the brunette. She kissed wet folds gently. Brittany tasted like Brittany. Something Santana didn't really understand but knew she needed. Santana could feel her own desire pooling between her legs as Brittany's muscles clenched at her touch. Santana flicked her tongue across Brittany clit quickly, wanting to cause a shock. She pushed her tongue into Brittany warm center and took pride in the loud moan that escaped her lips.

"Oh fuck, Santana," the swear slipped from Brittany's mouth unexpectedly. She was so far gone and Santana only wanted more from her.

She reached a hand and inserted a finger into Brittany's soaking core. She slid in and out, finding that rhythm that Brittany responded best to. She watched the girl arch and throw her head back in ecstasy and all Santana wanted is more.

She inserted another finger and let her tongue work on Brittany's clit, kissing, sucking, anything she could think to do to please the girl beneath her. She needed Brittany to come, needed to see her come undone and she could tell that wasn't far off.

One more quick flick of her tongue and Brittany barely managed to gasp out Santana's name before her body tensed and she was thrown into her orgasm. Santana continued to move in her, curling her fingers up and causing Brittany to spasm beneath her, knees struggling to stay in place.

Santana was blown away. She caused this. She made Brittany feel this much.

When Brittany's body went limp Santana pulled her fingers gently from Brittany and crawled on top of her. They were both panting. Brittany looked at her, eyes half open and reached behind Santana's neck, pulling them together. Their lips crash and Santana moans. Brittany's tongue can do wonders that people would never believe.

Santana wanted nothing more then for that tongue to travel elsewhere.

And it did. Oh god, it did.

LINE BREAK

Santana was beyond sated. She was content. Brittany was snuggled up against her, Santana's arm wrapped around her. She sighed. The moment was too perfect.

"I love you," Brittany said quietly.

Santana was silent. They had said it a million times to each other. This was different.

Santana was really good at the before and during parts of sex. She had always been good at those parts but after...it was hard for her. She liked sex because she liked getting off. It had never been about intimacy until Brittany. Now it was and she knew it was so much better than just sex but it was still hard for her to deal with. The after was the part where she ran away. Where she decided to feign interest or ask the guy to take her to a burger joint.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

It was easier to say than she had ever imagined and she knew she meant it.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Brittany asked quietly.

"Sure."

Neither of them moved.

"You have to put a move in for us to watch one, B," Santana said smiling. She had her eyes closed. She was content with just being with Brittany.

"I don't want to get up," the blonde sighed into Santana's chest.

They both laughed.

"This is good too," Brittany said after a while.

"This is perfect," Santana whispered.

A buzzing noise cuts through the moment like a knife. Her fucking phone. Again. It could be an emergency though. Santana stood up to many protests by Brittany and went hunting for the motherfucking piece of sh... It was by the door, under her desk. She picked it up and looked at the screen.

Thirteen missed calls.

"What the fuck?" She said it softly and clicked to see who had called her.

Unknown caller.

"What is it?" Santana looked up and met blue eyes. Brittany was using her hand to prop up her head.

"A lot of missed calls." She turned the phone back on loud and put it on her bedside table. She slipped back under the blankets and Brittany's body melded into hers.

"Who from?"

"It didn't say."

"That is weird," Brittany said. She was tracing shapes absentmindedly on the sheet.

"Yeah, no big though."

"Yeah," Brittany said. Santana could tell she was zoned out. She didn't sound even remotely interested. She wasn't even trying. Santana smiled to herself.

The phone rang. Santana growled. "Let it ring," she said.

"No, maybe it's important." Brittany sat up again and Santana answered without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" She said it in an annoyed voice. Why would anyone need to talk to her? Brittany was here. No one in Glee ever really talked to her unless it was because they wanted Brittany involved and Puck knew she wasn't having sex with him anymore.

No answer. She could however hear someone breathing.

"Hello?" Her voice changed on it's own. It lowered, became more serious. Something had sunk into Santana and made her feel scared, a slight twinge of fear she couldn't really explain.

Breathing.

"Hello?" Santana felt a twinge of annoyance in the back of her throat. "Who the fuck is this?"

Someone laughed. It was just enough to make her skin crawl. The phone beeps. Call disconnected.

"Santana?" Brittany's voice was laced with worry.

Santana just stared ahead. What the fuck was that?

Brittany kissed that special spot where neck meets shoulder and Santana was pulled back to her. "There's my girl," Brittany whispered against warm skin.

Santana kissed the blondes lips. They needed to get up anyway. Santana had no idea when her dad would be home but he couldn't find their discarded clothing leading to her bedroom.

Something was nagging at the back of Santana's mind, though. How could one laugh make her feel that afraid?

Brittany's lips found her neck.

A thought for another day.

**AN: **This is really fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy it. While I really want to focus on Brittana I'd also like to work on capturing the personalities of other characters. Review and let me know, even though this chapter was entirely Brittana... Also, I have a lot of trouble writing third person because of tenses. I get confused for some reason. So, I'm sorry if there are flow issues due to random tense changes. I had to stop myself. I also kept switching into first person a few times and had to go back and delete and re-write.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Well, I have to say I'm a bit disappointed that I only got one review. It was a bit discouraging, but that's fine. I got a few favorites and a lot of alerts so I guess I'll continue it. Please review! Also, I went back and edited the first chapter because I didn't like the tenses. I'm struggling with that a bit.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Santana awoke feeling _wonderful_. Brittany was tucked into her still sleeping deeply. She laid her head back on her pillow and sighed, content. Santana knew this was what life should be like. Just Brittany here with her.

A thud sounded downstairs. Something in Santana's mind flickered to last night and her heart jumped.

"_Santana!"_ Her dad yelled from downstairs.

"Shit," Santana said quietly. The full weight of the situation weighing down on her. "Shit, shit, shit!" She lifted up quickly, Brittany's head falling from her chest and hitting the mattress. She moaned, annoyed at being woken up in such a way. "Oh, babe," Santana said softly. Brittany sat up and looked at Santana indignantly. "I'm sorry, I heard my dad." Brittany's eyes widened.

They were fully dressed but Brittany knew Santana's worry about being seen in compromising positions.

"Okay," Brittany said slowly sliding out of the bed. Santana watched as she stood and stretched. She admired the way the muscles in Brittany's toned legs tensed and un-tensed and how her body seemed to move lithely even in the early morning. Brittany never stopped being a dancer.

"I'm going to go shower," Brittany said smiling. She was a morning person. Santana watched as her friend slowly took her shirt off in the bedroom and stretched her body again. She disappeared into the bathroom door, shedding her shorts.

"Tease," Santana called softly, not wanting her dad to hear. She wasn't even sure Brittany had heard until a slight giggle echoed into the bedroom.

Santana laid back on her bed. She wanted Brittany, all the time anymore, it seemed. Not even sexually, she just wanted to touch her, feel her, experience her. She sighed. She needed a shower too.

LINE BREAK

When both girls had showered, brushed their teeth, and primped to their hearts content they made their way downstairs. The smell of coffee wafted up the stairs and Santana inhaled it gratefully. Coffee. She wasn't a morning person like Brittany, she needed the caffeine to wake her up and her dad made a particularly strong brew, especially in the morning.

"Morning," Brittany sing-songed as the two entered the kitchen.

Dr. Lopez looked up from the paper he was reading, it was laid out on the counter. His face didn't show any sign of having any emotion towards seeing Brittany there and Santana inwardly sighed, relieved.

"Good morning, Brittany, glad to see someone can look happy in the mornings," he said pointedly at Santana who only groaned in response and poured herself a hot cup of coffee.

"Going back to work?" Santana posed the question as she leaned against the opposite counter facing her dad.

"In a while, I'm actually just getting in," he said absentmindedly staring intently at the paper.

Brittany didn't drink coffee and had decided to use the counter top by the coffee maker as a chair. Santana smiled at the way the blonde crossed her legs with more grace than Santana could ever hope for. She let her eyes wander over the toned legs and felt displeasure as when her eyes were denied the right to travel up to her thighs by the cheerios skirt.

"Long night?" Santana jerked her head away and looked at her father. Dr. Lopez was staring too intently at his newspaper to notice his daughters leering.

"Mmm," he said as a response.

Santana looked down at her shoes and then up at Brittany who was smiling sweetly at her. She took a sip of her coffee and Brittany winked at her.

"You know," her father began. "There was a dead rat when I got home a few hours ago, outside."

Santana said nothing. Brittany cocked her head to the side and watched Mr. Lopez, waiting for more of an explanation.

"I got rid of it," he added, looking up at the two girls.

"Good," Santana said nodding, taking another sip of her coffee. It was smoldering hot and burned her tongue but felt good as it slid down her throat and pumped heat into her body. Just what she needed.

"Damn neighborhood cats. We never had this problem before but now that Mrs. McGee has all those damn cats..." He trailed off and mumbled something.

Brittany pouted from her place on the counter. "Lord Tubbington brings us mice all the time, but my mom just says that's a present for us. So, maybe they just really like you."

Santana couldn't help but smile at Brittany.

"This wasn't a mouse, Brittany, it was a giant sewer rat." Dr. Lopez looked up at the girl with a scowl chiseled into his forehead. Santana frowned at her father. She didn't like anyone talking to Brittany like that. What could she say?

"So it was a giant gift." She said it simply, like she said most of her comments.

The man softened his expression at the look on her face. Santana couldn't help but wonder if it was a Lopez trait, being so easily manipulated by Brittany. "I guess so."

Brittany smiled, proudly. Santana knew her friend thought she had helped save a cats reputation. She laughed, Brittany and her father looked at her.

"We better get going," Santana said putting her coffee on the counter.

"Have a good day, I'll be at the hospital when you get back, night shift again," her dad said to his newspaper. Santana nodded. He was important and busy, she knew that, but she wanted him to acknowledge her, just a little bit.

"You too." Santana watched him for a moment and when he didn't respond she knew he wasn't going to. When the two girls hard cleared the kitchen she instinctively reached for Brittany's pinkie and was relieved to find it waiting for her.

When Santana opened the door she was surprised at how cool it was outside. She shivered, but mainly from shock. Just a moment ago she had been holding and drinking a piping hot cup of coffee and now the frigid air felt like a slap to the face.

"San," Brittany said quietly beside her. It was a tense voice that the young Latina wasn't used to.

"What, Britt?" Santana looked at her friends face and saw it staring. She looked down, there was another rat, lying dead on the concrete path.

Santana stared at the rat and couldn't explain why she suddenly got goosebumps or why she felt the need to run back inside as if eyes were watching her and she needed to outrun them.

"It doesn't look like a cat killed it," Brittany said flatly. "It's whole. There isn't even a cut on it."

Santana looked closely at the rat. Brittany was right. It looked like it had just...died.

"Dad?" Santana called out loudly towards the house.

* * *

><p>Santana spent the day going to classes and dreading every second of the day she wasn't with Brittany. They didn't have much time together during the day but at least they had Cheerios and Glee. Sometimes it didn't feel like enough and as Santana sat in class, twirling her pencil in her fingers she knew her desire for Brittany was growing every day and soon she wouldn't have any control over it.<p>

That thought scared her. She wasn't ready for people to know. She wasn't ready to share that information with the world.

A bell rang. She jumped from her seat and left the classroom before anyone else.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be with Brittany. She did. Santana knew, down to the very core of her being that she wanted to be with the girl, that she had never wanted anything more in her life. It scared her though, the thought of what could happen to the two of them.

Santana shook her head. Too much thought.

"Hey," a voice said behind her.

She turned quickly, knowing the voice and feeling relieved to see Brittany standing there, smiling slightly.

"Hey," Santana returned smiling.

Brittany linked her pinkie with Santana and they both walked. People moving out of their way as the two girls walked down the hall as if they owned it, but they did, didn't they?

"I was just thinking about you," Santana said softly.

"Oh yeah?" A smile played across Brittany's lips. Santana wanted to kiss them, taste them. Lay her body flush against Brittany's and connect with her in any way. She felt her face get hot. The hallway was emptying.

In a split second decision Santana pulled Brittany into the nearest bathroom, forcing the door shut and pushing Brittany's body against it. "San?" The girl said, confused.

"Shh," Santana soothed before pressing her lips to Brittany's softly, needing to feel her. Instantly Santana felt better, relieved, content.

When Brittany returned the kiss something burned in Santana and she knew she needed the blonde. Santana let her tongue trace Brittany's lips and smiled when the blonde moaned and allowed Santana entry to her mouth. They kissed deeply, Santana feeling her heart race and her thighs ache and her head swim. All she tasted, touched, and smelled was Brittany. It was too much and it was perfect.

"San," Brittany moaned as Santana trailed kisses down her neck. Brittany had her head leaned back against the door, her hands on Santana's waist, holding her close. "Remember what happened last time?"

Santana stopped as if a switch had been flipped inside of her. Of course she remembered.

It had been after Cheerios practice. Brittany and Santana had showered, dressed, and made it all the way to Santana's car when Brittany realized she had left her phone in the locker room. Santana was used to this type of behavior from Brittany. She knew her friend wasn't exactly the quickest but Santana was annoyed. All the running and moving and exercising coupled with the fact she had to shower and change in the same vicinity as Brittany without being able to touch her made Santana crave the blonde. It never failed unless the coach had been extremely rough on them.

Santana huffed. "Go get it."

Brittany looked at her like she was crazy. "Alone?"

Santana looked around her, not sure how to react to Brittany. "Well, yeah."

"But the school is empty, what if it's haunted?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous."

"Come with me," Brittany smiled.

They stood in silence, eyes locked. "Fine," Santana huffed. Brittany always won. It was like the young Latina didn't even have a choice in the matter. She would never deny Brittany anything.

They linked pinkies without even realizing it and walked into the school. Brittany searched the locker rooms and found her phone hidden in the back of her locker. "Got it."

"Awesome, now let's get out of here. I want to go home." Santana locked eyes with Brittany, hoping the girl understood what she meant. Santana needed Brittany. It was as simple as that. Brittany always won, Santana needed Brittany. It was how they functioned.

Brittany smiled playfully. "Me too." She skipped out of the locker room and Santana followed, arms crossed, smiling.

When she got to the hall Brittany had grabbed shoulders and pushed her against the lockers gently. "Britt?" Santana had stared at her friend, shocked, confused.

"The school is completely empty," Brittany said with awe in her voice. She looked around the empty hall and Santana let her eyes follow. She jumped when Brittany crashed her soft lips onto Santana's who couldn't help whimper in response.

"Britt," Santana said as Brittany's hand wondered down to Santana's pants.

A noise made Santana's heart jump. She thought it was going to pound out of her chest and she pushed Brittany away from her. The blonde looked just as shocked and Santana knew she had heard the noise. They looked around, there was no one, but Santana had been so sure she saw something flicker into a classroom before they had broken apart.

Another noise, louder, multiple noises. Voices. A group of guys turned the corner. They were talking loudly, leaving the school. Football players. Santana waved to the guys and then grabbed Brittany by the wrist and was pulling her away, out of the school to her car. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt light headed. She had let go of Brittany and got into her car. Brittany crawled into the passenger seat and the two sat in silence.

"That was close," Brittany said quietly.

"Too close." Santana needed her heart to stop pounding.

Brittany, as if able to read her best friends mind, grabbed Santana's hand and put it on her chest. Santana had no idea what the girl was doing until she felt Brittany's heart hammering hard, almost as hard as her own. "School is scary after it's ended."

Santana nodded. They stared at each other and then started laughing. Maybe it was the adrenaline, because Santana had found the situation stressful later, but in that moment it had felt funny.

Santana backed away from Brittany and looked at her. She was confused. Brittany didn't understand her friends confusion, it was Santana who cared if they got caught, so why was she so worried.

"I want you to be okay," Brittany said slowly. "I know you're worried."

It wasn't eloquent and to anyone else it wouldn't have made sense, but to Santana it said a lot. Sometimes she forgot just how good Brittany was. She was always aware of how special her best friend was, how rare, but the amount of love she had for Santana was sometimes overwhelming.

"I'll see you later, then?" Santana said it slowly. She didn't want to leave Brittany. When their bodies disconnected she felt empty.

Brittany snuck a light kiss to her lips and then disappeared back into the hallway. The bell had rung long ago. Santana was late.

* * *

><p>Honestly, when Santana had put 'World Cultures' as a class for her senior year schedule she hadn't anticipated that she would actually have to go and that there would be work. It wasn't a complete loss of a class though, Kurt and Mercedes happened to be in it along with her. While she wasn't ready to abandon all of her cool and be best pals with Kurt and his hag, she liked having them around. Glee was a comfort in any form.<p>

The teacher had handed out the assignment, a short writing piece, and was sitting at her desk, glasses pushed far up her nose which was buried in what looked liked a Nicholas Sparks novel. Santana rolled her eyes and looked at the assignment in front of her.

Something about Europe. Trains and cars. Whatever. She would write it later. Brittany was still on her mind.

Brittany.

The entire situation bothered her. Santana sat with her chin on her hand, elbow on the desk. She was staring blankly in front of her. She didn't understand when she had become so...what was the word? Her brows furrowed. It just wasn't her normal behavior to make out in hallways and cars and bathrooms where people could see. Santana straightened up in her chair.

What if people had seen?

But they hadn't.

She stared at the assignment. Time to be more careful. Santana knew she needed to learn some control when it came to Brittany, but she didn't know how. All Santana wanted anymore was Brittany, to spend time with her, to touch her and be with her. Eye contact was even becoming a turn on. Santana crossed her legs under the desk thinking of the striking blue eyes that had captivated her heart.

What was the matter with her?

Her thoughts could have gone on for the entire class but something made Santana jerk around in her seat so fast her neck hurt.

"What did you just say?"

Kurt looked at Santana, surprised to see her paying attention to him. "What?"

"What did you say?" Santana repeated it slowly, heart pounding. She must have misheard what he was saying. She had to have.

"My dad," Kurt began slowly. He looked at Mercedes, as if for help, she only stared back at him, unsure of what to do about Santana's sudden behavior. "We keep finding dead rats on our porch."

"Like...?"

Kurt looked at Mercedes again and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Like rats, Santana. Sewer rats."

Santana turned around in her chair and stared at the piece of paper in front of her, taking in none of the many words printed on it. She heard Kurt mumble something about her to Mercedes but ignored it.

Ice. That was all Santana felt. Ice. It was seeping into her bones like the laugh from the Unknown Caller. She could hear it echoing in her head. As the hairs on the back of Santana's neck rose, she knew, there was more to this than a cat or a prank caller.

She just knew.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Right, so, I really appreciate all the reviews I got. I know the writing isn't too good but it's been a really, really long time since I've written in third person, so hopefully I will improve. I know that Halloween is over but I hope you'll continue to read this story, if only I had started it sooner.

I would just like to say that I appreciate the feedback. I meant, from my comment about lack of response, that I was hoping for more than one review, not the content of that one review to be better. I shouldn't complain anyway, it's only been two chapters.

Anyway, thank you all for your reviews/alerts/favorites. It is greatly appreciated and is inspiration for writing. Now, I want you to know that this story already has an outline written and so it will move fast once it gets started. Time to bring the creepy

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

When the school bell rang Santana didn't join the throng of students who were bustling quickly past one another to get out of the school. She was going to meet Brittany and they were going to her house. It was Friday night and everyone who was anyone had plans.

Santana pushed past a few guys who were blocking her way and shot a glare at them. "Fucking boys," she mumbled to herself. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she walked with an air of annoyance she hadn't meant to channel. Santana hated people thinking they could be in her way. She was, after all, Santana.

Everything softened though when she saw blonde hair and met deep blue eyes. A smile curved her lips and crawled into her eyes.

Brittany.

"Hey," Brittany said happily. "I'm so excited about tonight."

"Me too," Santana laughed at her friends almost child-like enthusiasm. It was one of the many things that she never tired of when other people did. "It's going to be great, I heard Michael has like, a ton of space and a pool, though it's too cold to swim but an awesome deck."

"I heard there's a trampoline," Brittany said in a very serious whisper. Of course, Brittany's parents had bought the girl a trampoline for her ninth birthday, but someone else having one was completely different.

"Well you're not allowed anywhere near that thing once you've started drinking," Santana said seriously. "Cheerios couldn't stand for their most talented member breaking her neck and Sue would be pissed."

Brittany tilted her head slightly at Santana, as if waiting.

Santana knew why. She glanced around the almost deserted hallway. "And I would die if anything happened to you," she whispered taking a step closer and linking their hands together.

Brittany grinned that special grin that suggested more to Santana. The party wasn't until seven, right? They definitely had time.

* * *

><p>Almost forty-five minutes after seven Santana parked her car next to the countless others outside of Michael's house. When they stepped out of the car they smiled at each other. The house was much larger than they had anticipated and was tucked farther away from other homes in the neighborhood. Michael's family was wealthy, everyone knew that, but the girls were pleasantly surprised to see all of the open space. It was a perfect party equation. Big house, far away neighbors, huge back yard with a deck that seemed to go on for miles. Music was filtering through the house and Santana could feel it vibrate in her body. She wanted to join the fun.<p>

"This is going to be an interesting night," she said giving Brittany an appraising look. They were late on purpose, who showed up on time? Well, they also may have been a bit distracted until the last minute.

"I can not wait to dance," Brittany said, bobbing up and down with enthusiasm. Santana smiled.

"I can't wait to watch you dance," she said softly brushing a kiss against Brittany's lips. She was feeling exceptionally affectionate and realized she needed to be more careful. Santana knew they couldn't afford another incident like the one in the hallway.

Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the house. Santana felt a familiar tingling growing inside of her. Parties were something she could do. Parties were her territory and when Brittany opened the door without waiting for an invitation in and the smell of drinking and the ear busting music hit Santana she felt like she was on the hunt.

The house was full to the brim. Santana made her way with Brittany around the edges of the throng of dancing teens. They squeezed themselves into the kitchen, searching for drinks. Brittany was mingling with other people searching for a drink. Santana watched the blonde sink into the conversation and be accepted immediately. Santana knew if she were to join people would fear her and agree with anything she said. They wouldn't know how to have a conversation with her. All she did was scare people who weren't in Glee club.

That was okay, though.

She poured herself a mixture of drinks from the counter into two plastic cups. Santana wanted to party tonight and that translated to one thing: Drinking. She took a gulp from the concoction in her cup and grimaced. It was unpleasant as it slid down her throat and burned her stomach. She loved it.

The group of people around Brittany had grown into a full throng. Mainly football players wanting to get the blondes attention, even if it was only for a moment. Santana watched as they flirted with her and even though she knew Brittany was faithful she couldn't stand watching the boys try and take what was hers.

She knew it was irrational and that she could solve the problem by coming out. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a second before letting her irrationality take control.

Santana pushed her way through the crowd around Brittany and grabbed her friend, moving her away from the attention she was getting. When they left the room Brittany looked at Santana, confused.

"I was having fun," she said. Santana knew she was disappointed and wanted to soothe the slightly crinkled brow that had begun on Brittany's forehead.

They were moving back towards the living room that had been converted into a dance floor. Santana was having to lean close to Brittany to be heard. Not that she minded.

"I just didn't like seeing those guys drool over you and," she said putting a drink in Brittany's hand. "I thought you wanted to dance." Santana knew she was being too territorial.

Brittany took a big swig from the plastic cup and handed it back to Santana. "I must dance." Brittany had spoken the words very slowly to Santana, trying to be serious. Her breath was warm against Santana's ear and she shivered. Brittany flitted away quickly.

Santana watched the girl, eyes hungry even though she had been more then sated earlier in the evening. When Brittany danced, though, Santana couldn't help but react. She watched closely as Brittany moved through the crowd like it was water. She didn't stay with one dance partner, choosing instead to move between people, leaving them wanting more, teasing them, though the blonde would never have done it on purpose. Santana knew that the music moved something inside of Brittany and she just couldn't remain in one place.

Santana took another huge gulp of her drink. She planned on drinking enough to feel tipsy but not enough to be completely wasted. Brittany was still in her sights for an after party.

"You took her away quickly," a voice said close beside her.

She turned. One of the guys who had been drooling over Brittany was standing next to her. She had forgotten his name. Jacob. Chris?

"Michael," he said after a moment.

"Right, sorry, dim lighting," Santana said lamely. Michael, throwing the house party, Michael.

He chuckled at her. "Right."

Even though it was far from silent in the room Santana felt awkward. She didn't want to talk to this boy even though it was his house and his party. Brittany was dancing and that was a trump card. She kept her eyes glued to the way her hips moved to the rhythm as if it was second nature. As if was the easiest thing in the world. What Santana wouldn't give to be able to move like that.

"She's an incredible dancer," Michael said out of the blue.

"Mmm," Santana agreed, she kept her eyes on Brittany who was lost in the moment. Michael could look all he wanted but Santana knew Brittany was coming home with her that night and she knew everything she wanted to do to the girl.

"I wish I could dance."

Santana shot him a confused look and Michael quickly back tracked. "Just like, for times like this you know? For parties and stuff. Not like Glee club."

Santana arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. She could almost see the him sweating under her glare.

"Let me top that off for you," Michael said quickly, realizing his mistake.

"Sure," Santana let him have her drink. He had a bottle in one hand and poured a generous amount into the cup. Santana smiled. "Your house is huge." She was almost having to yell to be heard.

"I know, right? My parents are out of town and they owe me anyway. I'm so glad this happened." He smiled at her and Santana couldn't help but smile back. He seemed genuinely happy even if his house was getting trashed. Santana turned back to the dance floor as the song ended. Brittany caught Santana's eye and held up her pointer finger, Santana rolled her eyes and smiled. She knew Brittany would be dancing as long as there were songs.

Santana took another swig of her drink. The remains of her original drink and the new brew Michael had added tasted awful together and she made a face at the cup. The chorus of "My Cup" burst into her head. She chuckled.

"So, Santana," Michael began. She rolled her eyes and turned towards him. "Would you like to dance. With me, that is?" He was nervous. Part of Santana felt pity, the other part wanted to sneer at his child-like offer.

"I think I'm good, Mike," she said after taking another gulp of her drink. She was definitely feeling tipsy now. "Think I'm gonna go find my real friends." Her words slurred a bit. She remained behind long enough to see Michael looking downcast and then stumbled away from him.

"Holy shit," she muttered to herself. "I'm becoming a light weight."

Santana set both her and Brittany's drink down on a small table. She steadied herself and then sighed. A heavy body slammed into her. "Hey," she cried out.

Santana turned to verbally emaciate the person who had dared run into her and only ended up running into someone else. Her stomach churned, too much movement. She groaned.

"What do you want?" The voice was gruff. Santana looked up into the face of one of her least favorite football players, Azimio.

"I want you to get the fuck off of me," she said stumbling backwards. She knew she wasn't a threat, especially considering she felt half drunk and he was probably three times her weight.

"And I want you to get the fuck away from me. I'll get infected by your Glee club loser germs," he practically yelled at her over the music.

Santana knew people were staring but she didn't care. All she wanted was to punch Azimio in the face. No one talked to her like that, ever. She raised a hand to smack him but felt someone grab her arm.

"Hey now, kids, let's all play nice." It was Puck. Santana glared at him and tried to wrench her arm away. Puck anticipated her move and pulled her close. "We're going to go have a talk." She dragged Santana away from the group of people that had gathered to watch the display.

Santana felt dizzy, extremely dizzy for the small amount of liquor she had had. She looked at Puck, instantly annoyed. "What the hell do you want?"

"I was trying to keep you from getting your ass kicked," said Puck. "Azimio is as wasted as you are. No telling what he would have done."

"He's just jealous," Santana spat at him.

"Of what?"

Santana was silent. She honestly forgot what he was jealous of, though she distinctly remembered that Brittany was involved. She smiled, Brittany. She should go find her, dance with her.

"I think you've had enough, you're going to start crying soon," Puck said rolling his eyes at her.

"Fuck you," she replied. Santana Lopez didn't fucking cry. She felt angry at him for making her look like a child in front of all of those people. She could handle herself, she always had and always would. She didn't need anyone. Her eyes began to well up.

"Santana, come on, you're drunk."

"I'm fine," Santana said.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Santana had mixed feelings about Puck. She honestly did not have a care in the world about who he dated or slept with but she still felt for him. She still wanted him to be happy and okay. He was, in a weird way, one of her only real friends. "How're things with Beth?"

He shrugged. Santana looked at him closely. He didn't want to talk. She wasn't going to pressure him.

"I'm going to get a drink," he said after a second and then disappeared around a corner.

Santana was left alone in the hallway and pulled herself together. She felt something in her stir for Puck. She had no idea what he was going through but she knew it had to be rough.

She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. She needed to go back to being tough Santana, not weepy drunk Santana. She stumbled out of the hallway Puck had dragged her to. The music was pulsating through her very bones.

"Hey," a voice said loudly behind her. She turned, too quickly and was face to face with Brittany. She smiled and knew she looked like an idiot.

"Wow, you're drunk," Brittany said, an amused smiled spreading across her face slowly.

Santana scoffed. "No, I'm just, yeah, I'm just a bit drunk." She laughed at herself and Brittany smiled even wider. Santana was completely okay with looking stupid if it made Brittany smile like that. Santana's phone vibrated in her pocket and she felt like she was vibrating with it. She pulled it out and looked at the screen.

Unknown caller.

She ignored it and her skin began to crawl.

"What?" Brittany yelled over the music.

"Nothing," Santana said quietly, leaning in close to Brittany to say it.

"Come on," Brittany said grabbing Santana's wrist and pulling her back down the same hall that Puck had dragged her down. Santana felt disoriented for a moment, being pulled back and forth by different people. Brittany pulled her into a bathroom.

When they were inside Brittany locked the door and turned to look at Santana who had pushed herself up onto the counter and was sitting, head down.

"What did you drink?" Brittany sounded like she was going to burst with laughter.

"I don't know," Santana said shrugging. "But it worked fast or I drank a lot more than I remembered. Probably both." She was slurring and babbling.

Brittany giggled and stepped close to Santana. "I missed you dancing with me."

There was a very thin sheen of sweat on Brittany. Santana stared at the girl and wanted to crash their lips together. "Yeah? I missed dancing with you, sometimes it's more fun to watch, though." Santana was being brutally honest. She could feel the words tumbling out of her.

"Really?" Brittany tilted her head and smiled at Santana, licking her lips slightly. "Why's that?" She was leaning in and pressing her lips to Santana's neck.

"Your hips," Santana began. "They move like you're flying or floating or made of air. Just fluid and I want to touch them. Touch you."

Brittany pulled away and looked at Santana's eyes searching for something. She brought their lips together and Santana moaned more loudly than she would have liked. She had no idea how turned on she had become but having Brittany this close to her again made the feelings of need come rushing back.

Santana's legs were spread, allowing Brittany to stand between them. Brittany's hands played at Santana's stomach before moving slowly down. Santana was wearing a very short dress that had become bunched at her waist when she sat on the counter. She was very aware of how exposed she was and couldn't help herself when her legs spread more. She wanted Brittany to touch her.

Brittany's hands moved lower to her legs and then squeezed at Santana's thighs. Santana moaned and their kiss broke. Their eyes locked and Santana felt her heart beating wildly, her breathing erratic.

The hand moved up her thigh slowly and Santana's skin was screaming under Brittany's touch. When Brittany cupped her hand against Santana she whimpered and pushed herself towards the blonde, she was sitting on the edge of the counter.

"Fuck, Britt, you haven't even done anything yet," Santana said. She felt like she could come undone any moment, just from the contact. Her desire for Brittany was way out of control but she could not bring herself to care when she was getting this kind of attention.

"You're so wet," Brittany whispered into Santana's neck.

Santana gasped as Brittany squeezed gently, making circles with a finger against the soft material just barely separating her from Santana.

Someone banged on the door and both of the girls jumped apart. Santana laughed nervously and slid off the counter. She checked herself in the mirror and decided she looked fine. Brittany unlocked the door and the two girls pushed past the girl waiting outside.

Santana was wobbly. She felt stifled by all of the bodies and the loud music and the smoke inside of the house. "I need air," she said to Brittany who grabbed her wrist gently and led her outside.

The fresh air hit Santana's hot skin hard. She felt chilled instantly and was relieved. Brittany had teased her into a frenzy and the cool air was helping calm some of the need she could feel pounding through her. It was louder than the music, tracing paths all over her body. She inhaled. It smelled like fall.

"Sorry about that," Brittany whispered. She led Santana to the edge of the deck and they both leaned against the railing.

"It's fine," Santana whispered. She felt nausea coursing through her now that she was coming down from her Brittany high.

"Britt, come dance!" It was another Cheerio. She was in the middle of the group dancers that had decided the porch offered more room to move. Brittany looked at Santana who shrugged her shoulders.

"Go," she said loudly when Brittany was still holding onto her wrist. The blonde smiled and pulled her close.

"I'll be back in a sec, 'kay?" She brushed a quick kiss on her cheek and Santana felt her body tingle. It needed a release still and it wanted Brittany to provide it.

The music was filtering out of the house and Santana felt like it was still too loud. She made her way around the throng of dancers, looking up briefly to spot her dancer moving to the rhythm like it was hardwired into her. Santana stumbled past a group of Cheerios who called after her. She ignored them.

She was drunk, completely smashed. She could feel it but she wasn't sure how it happened. Things were moving quickly and Santana felt like she couldn't quite find a hold on reality. There was just a bit too much going on around her.

She looked around, the yard was huge. She was on the edge of the party, away from the lights and the music and the people. The farther away she got the more she felt like the world wasn't spinning and she wasn't about to throw up.

It was almost quiet as far away from the party as she was, as if it were just a distant memory. Santana sighed and rubbed her face, not caring if her make up smeared. All she wanted was to go home and pass out, this type of drunk was uncomfortable and had not been part of her plan for the evening.

Her phone rang loudly. She looked at the screen. Unknown caller.

"Fuck you," she said aloud to the phone and rejected the call.

Santana stretched and took a step back towards the party. The night was cool and she didn't feel right being separated from the group of teens, even if she found most of them annoying. She took a step and stumbled, falling to her knees. The world spun around her and she closed her eyes tight.

Something rustled behind her.

She looked around slowly, heart racing, and saw nothing. The party was still a way off, loudly continuing as if it were the only thing alive. It pulsated to the music, like a giant heartbeat.

"Brittany?" She pushed herself into a standing position, feeling very unstable in her heels. The air seemed to become still. Something changed around her and Santana knew there was another presence near her.

The body crashed into her hard and Santana was knocked onto her back, winded. She gasped but felt herself still moving. Too much momentum carried the bodies on, making them roll. Santana was having a hard time grasping what had happened. Her main focus was on trying to gulp down air.

When Santana felt herself thud against the ground and stop moving she opened her mouth to yell. Hand quickly found her throat and began to squeeze, silencing whatever fiery protest she had planned on lashing out with. Santana's eyes widened and she felt a scream building in her, this one out of fear. It couldn't get past the hands, though and panic took over. She thrashed violently under the body sitting on top of her, crushing her chest and managed to punch the figure in the face. She knew it wasn't hard but it was enough to stun him into loosening his grip.

With agility she never knew she possessed Santana scrambled out from under the figure and managed to get to her feet. She felt a hand on her leg and threw another punch. The figure ducked and released his grip again.

Drunk and terrified, Santana bolted for the throng of people.

She was limping slightly and was afraid he had done more damage to her than she thought but as she neared the edge of the party she realized she was only missing a heel. She took the other shoe off and left it in the grass. Her body was shaking hard. She knew it wasn't just the adrenaline that was causing her heart to pound so hard, almost to the point of pain. She had been attacked.

Santana looked up, scanning the crowd for Brittany. She still felt too drunk even though her encounter had sobered her up enough to realize just how dangerous the situation this was. She needed to get away. There she was, dancing on the edge of the crowd.

Santana opened her mouth to yell for Brittany but didn't want to attract attention. She sat down on a lawn chair and tried to catch her breath. People were already looking at her. She would just have to wait.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait for long. Brittany was at her side, smiling widely, still filled with the aftermath of dancing until she saw Santana's face.

"San," she said, voice laced with concern. She put a warm hand on Santana's forehead. "Are you sick? You're look sick."

Santana shook her head and couldn't speak. She opened her mouth but her voice wasn't responding. She panicked and her eyes widened.

"I'm taking you home," Brittany said. Santana had never felt more grateful towards Brittany as she helped her through the house and out front towards the car. Santana felt weak. Her heart was slowing but the alcohol mixed with the adrenaline rush made her feel like she was now completely exhausted. She barely had the energy to take actual steps towards her car.

Brittany opened the door for Santana and helped her slide into the passenger seat. Santana felt tears falling freely. Down her face It was just the adrenaline, she told herself. Too much all at once. She cleared her throat.

"What happened?" Brittany leaned against the head rest and watched as Santana tried to pull herself together. "You're a wreck."

"Someone attacked me, Britt," she whispered. Santana hit the door lock button.

"What?" Brittany's face looked beyond confused, disbelieving almost.

"Some guy just tackled me," Santana said slowly, trying to pull it all together. She felt dizzy and really wished her heart would stop pounding. "He started choking me." She cleared her throat. She felt her voice slowly coming back.

"Oh my god," Brittany said hands flying to cover her mouth. "San," she said scooting as close to the girl as she could. "We have to tell someone."

"Like who?" Santana was being honest. She didn't know what to do.

Her phone rang.

Unknown number. She answered the phone angrily. "What the fuck do you want?" She said it as loudly as she could. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

The person on the other end laughed and Santana felt her skin crawl. "You put up a good fight."

The phone cut off. Santana stared at Brittany, eyes wide, heart pounding to the rhythm of the music that was wafting from the house.

* * *

><p>Santana was sitting on her bed, dressed in pajamas feeling much better. She had showered and felt like the evening had been washed off of her. She still felt dizzy and still felt her skin crawling every time her mind drifted to the voice on the phone but she felt safe in her room with Brittany.<p>

Brittany was not handling the situation as well as Santana. Brittany had also had marginally less to drink. She was pacing and continued to shoot Santana glances that alluded heavily to the fact she was annoyed.

"He hurt you," the blonde said suddenly, stopping.

"I'm fine, Britt," Santana said gently.

They were silent. Santana stared at the carpet.

"I'm calling the police,"Brittany said suddenly.

"What? No!" Santana jumped off the bed and was standing in front of her holding her hands. "No, Britt, listen. I'm fine. I'm gonna be fine. I don't want to make a big deal out of this. Let's just...relax."

Brittany pulled away from Santana and looked at her, indignant. "This is serious, Santana. Someone hurt you. I don't want you to get hurt."

Santana pulled Brittany into a tight hug. "I'm fine as long as I have you," she whispered in the girls ear. It was true.

Brittany relaxed and wrapped her arms around Santana. "I just want you to be okay." She pulled away.

"I am, I promise I'll be fine." Santana brushed a kiss on Brittany's cheek. "I've got you all to myself now." She kissed the other cheek.

"You're distracting me with your sweet lady kisses." Brittany said it flatly.

"Yes, I am," Santana said as she kissed Brittany gently, agonizingly slow, waiting for a response.

When she got one, she smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Sorry it took so long to update. I had such a hard time writing this for some reason. Also, I'm not really pleased with this chapter. Or anything I'm writing recently. So, eh.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Sorry it's taking me so long to update this story. I'm just having a hard time writing it and feeling okay. It's been forever since I've written in third person, so I know the writing isn't that great but I hope I'm improving.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Her phone began to ring loudly again and Santana hit the snooze button for the tenth time. She had been out of bed for an hour already, showered was now putting the finishing touches on her face. The alarm clock was meant to keep her on track. Brittany was picking her up today and she wanted to be ready to go. The two had long ago decided that alternating the carpool would be beneficial.

After giving the mirror a smirk she left the bathroom and slipped into her shoes. She picked up her phone and turned the alarm clock off. One last sweep of her room to make sure she had everything and she was down the stairs, grabbing her Cheerios jacket by the door and throwing it open to be met by the chilly October air.

Santana inhaled deeply. She could feel it coursing through her body with the fresh air. She could feel the excitement building inside of her and she smiled, genuinely as she waited for Brittany. Today was going to be a good day. It had to be.

The party felt like a lifetime away to Santana. She had blocked it out of her mind and tried to convince herself it wasn't real. Santana was skilled in the art of deceiving herself. She had even started to believe no one had attacked her, that it was just a horrible dream fueled by lame prank calls and too much booze. She saw Brittany's car coming down the road and stepped onto the path. She let herself go and her smile went into overdrive. She waved happily.

Santana took a step forward and stopped. Her heart froze for a fraction of a second and then began to beat hard against her chest. It was the only sound she heard and it seemed to echo through body. Laying in the path was a dead bird, neck bent at an impossible angle. Her eyebrows came together and her head tilted slightly.

"What?" She barely whispered it, not knowing what she was seeing.

"San?" Santana's mind seemed to fall back into reality. She looked up at Brittany, halfway out of her car, staring at her.

"It's fine, Britts," she said before stepping around the bird and rushing to the car. She slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. "Let's just get to school."

Brittany smiled and put the car in reverse. She reached for Santana's hand and squeezed it.

* * *

><p>"All I'm saying is if it's so important, why haven't they made it a movie?" Santana posed the question and sat back in her chair, arms crossed, waiting for an answer.<p>

"Whether or not a book has a movie modeled after it does not determine it's importance," the teacher retorted to Santana. He was young and easily flustered. "We're reading books that don't have movies based on them so that your grade depends on how well you read them, not your Netflix subscription."

"Or how well we Sparknotes," Santana scoffed. There was scattered laughter through out the classroom.

"Santana," began the teacher as he always did. Trying to get control of the situation before it spiraled.

"Look," she started, already sure that she had won, confidence rolling off of her and fueling her words. "I've seen a lot of movies from books. _Harry Potter, Twilight, _hell, I've even seen _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and the _Scarlet Letter _was so good they made _Easy A," _Santana said to the teacher. "If _Great Expectations_ is as big of a classic as you've been saying, then where is the movie?" She shrugged her shoulders dramatically, palms face the ceiling as if she didn't understand and was hoping the answer would fall into her hands.

"Santana, _Twilight_ has no literary merit and... and...," he stopped, searching for words and clutching his worn copy of _Great Expectations_ in one hand, the other balled into a fist. He searched the floor for his next comment.

The bell echoed through the school. The students stirred and began to pack their books away, eager to leave the class.

"Don't forget," the teacher called over the shuffling noises. "Do the reading."

Santana smirked as she left the room. She was almost skipping down the hallway. In all honesty the young Latina had nothing against doing the reading and even liked what she had read so far but she needed those last ten minutes of class to come fast. Sometimes the teacher got too caught up in his lecturing to realize how boring her was. An argument always made time fly and Santana got a high from power. If she could conquer teacher authority she would be invincible.

A mental checklist ran through Santana's mind. Her lame typing class or computer class or whatever was done, English, check. Now all she had to do was suffer through her World Cultures class and then the rest of the day was Brittany, Brittany, Brittany. She sighed to herself. Her need for Brittany had become insatiabe and that scared the hell out of her.

She pulled her phone out of her bag and looked at it.

Two missed calls from Unknown.

Two different calls an hour apart. Santana looked at the screen hard. 8:13, 9:13. She felt cold.

"Is this some sick Halloween prank," she said out loud. She glared at the screen. "Fuck this." She was pissed because she was scared and Santana Lopez did not get scared. She stowed the phone away and went to class.

* * *

><p>The teacher was lecturing about the last assignment and how grades were improving. Santana ignored her and stared at her phone. She had her books stacked on her desk. They shielded the phone from the teachers view. It was sitting on top of her notebook so that when it did buzz it wouldn't rattle against the wooden desk, giving her away.<p>

She glanced at the clock, eyebrows pushed together in concentration. 10:08.

Five minutes. She stared hard at her phone. The screen went dark after a few seconds.

"Are you okay?" She jumped. Kurt was standing next to her, looking down at her and the phone.

"What?" She said it more loudly than she had intended to. He had startled her.

"Just wondering what you're looking so hard at, Santana," Kurt said, sighing as he sat in the desk next to hers.

Santana looked around the room, people were moving around and taking new seats. "No more than three to a group," the teacher called over the noise.

"What?" Santana said again, lost in the shuffle of students.

"We have a group project," Kurt said in a monotone voice. He ran a hand across his hair, making sure it was perfect before looking back at Santana. "Mercedes isn't here today but I figure the three of us will make a wonderful group. With her smarts and my vision and your...," he eyed Santana up and down before continuing. "... ability to make people cower in fear, we'll get an easy A."

Santana cocked an eyebrow at him. Her stony exterior falling back into place.

"Don't worry, I know this doesn't make us girlfriends," Kurt said in a mock high pitched voice. "I just assumed this would be easier than having to actually make friends with the mix of underclassmen in here."

Santana tilted her head slightly. She knew he had a valid point and truth be told, though she would deny it to the death, Santana didn't mind Kurt or Mercedes. Maybe she even liked them.

"Fine," she said breaking her glare after a few more moments. "But what's the assignment?"

Kurt sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Have you been staring at your phone for the last fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen?" Santana's attention quickly turned back to her phone. She pressed a button on the side and the screen lit up. 10:12.

One minute.

Santana's heart began the heavy pounding in her chest that she now associated with the Unknown caller. She waited, staring at the screen. It went black. She pressed a button on the side and then unlocked it. The screen flashed away from the lock screen. The time was written in a thin white script in the top left hand side of the screen. She watched it without blinking.

"Santana?" Kurt said it slowly, trying to get her attention.

Santana held up a finger to silence him.

"Group three," said the teacher. "Kurt, Santana and?"

"Mercedes," Kurt supplied.

"Yes, good," the teacher said writing something down in her ledger. "You all are doing which culture?"

Santana ignored the teacher. She felt like an hour had passed. The time still hadn't changed.

"French," Kurt said in an accent beside her.

Had Santana been paying attention, had she not been so enveloped in the time, had not felt her heart thumping so loudly she thought she was going to faint, had not been waiting to see if she was merely losing her mind and that the times of the calls happened to be coincidence she would have gotten her way. She would have argued vehemently (in Spanish) that Spanish culture would be a far superior choice for the assignment.

"Very good," the teacher called. "Group four..."

"French is going to be so easy," Kurt began. He stared at her for a moment, eyes moving from the phone to Santana's face.

"What are you doing?"

It changed. 10:13.

Santana inhaled sharply and the world stopped. She couldn't hear anything for the briefest of moments. She released the breath she was holding and looked at Kurt. "What?"

"What are you doing?" He repeated slowly.

The phone buzzed on her desk. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at Kurt. He looked at her for a second, concerned then glanced at her phone.

"Unknown is calling," Kurt said.

Santana jerked her head to her phone and stared, mouth open. He was taunting her. She pressed a button on the side of the phone to silence it and then stowed it in her bag.

She sat in silence, leaning back against the chair, feeling dead.

"Santana, are you okay?" Kurt watched her closely. He wasn't sure how to deal with Santana and Santana knew that. No one ever really seemed how to deal with Santana besides Brittany.

"Nothing, just," she stopped and sat up in her chair. "Just tell me what we're doing, I wasn't listening."

Kurt nodded, undeterred by his partners lack of dedication already. "It's simple really..."

Santana tried to listen, she really did. The only thing she seemed able to register though, was the fact that her skin was crawling and she felt very, uncharacteristically cold.

* * *

><p>"Are you kidding me with that, Lopez?" Coach Sylvester yelled through her mega-phone at the young Latina.<p>

Santana stood bent over, hands on her knees, panting.

"That was the most pathetic display I've seen yet. You want me to call you my co-head cheerleader when you can't even do the simplest of our routines without ruining everything? Your execution was so messy you nearly lopped off your dancing queens head." Coach Sylvester pulled the mega-phone away from her mouth and watched the girls standing around, not daring to look at her. She smiled. "Laps until I think Lopez has got it together."

Everyone groaned and shot Santana looks full of pure venom. They began to follow the Coach's orders and took off around the football field. It was getting chilly but it wasn't yet cold enough that practice had been moved to the gym.

Santana ran after everyone, pushing through the crowd to make it to the front. She had to remain on top. There was no other option.

Her side burned so badly she thought she would fall over and die. Her legs felt like jelly underneath her and every time she put her foot on the ground she was surprised to find they still held her weight. She was sweating so profusely through her uniform that she was sure she looked like she had just stepped out of a pool. She was miserable.

Panting hard she pushed herself. When someone began to catch up with her she pushed herself harder and every inch of her body screamed at her to stop. She wanted to fall to the ground and sleep or die. Either one would work.

"San," a voice panted beside her. She looked over and wiped sweat from her forehead. Brittany had caught up with her.

Santana didn't say anything, she nodded, unsure if she could say anything.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" Brittany panted hard beside Santana. It was so hard to talk and run. "My head is fine."

Santana looked over and her heart almost burst with love. Brittany's hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, she was dripping with sweat almost as heavily as Santana and her face was flushed red from the effort. Even at the messiest of times Santana found her beautiful.

She also found that it didn't matter that much if she messed up, as long as Brittany thought she was okay.

Santana nodded and they ran together in silence at the head of the pack. Santana felt rejuvenated in an odd way. As long as Brittany was there she could continue running.

"That's enough of your pathetic display," Coach Sylvester called through the megaphone. "Go shower off the disappointment and try to get it together before practice tomorrow."

Most of the girls stopped immediately and paused to catch their breath. Santana and Brittany slowed to a slight job and kept around the track until they felt their bodies relax. After a minute or so more they slowed to a walk and made their way towards the locker rooms.

They were both panting. Brittany and Santana walked in silence to the bathroom, pinkies linked.

* * *

><p>"That was the most intense practice yet," Santana said lying back in the passenger seat of the car.<p>

"Yeah," Brittany said turning a corner. "I didn't think you did anything wrong..."

Santana looked at Brittany's profile. "You were watching me?"

"I always watch you, San." Brittany said it as plain as if she was commenting on the weather. As if it just was something that...was.

Santana's heart fluttered and a smile sneaked it's way onto her face. "Yeah?"

"Of course," Brittany said glancing at Santana and smiling.

Santana sighed. "I wish I had the luxury to watch you. I can't watch and do choreography. Too hard. I have to be focused."

Brittany was silent for a moment. "It's not like Glee. You're effortless in Glee and beautiful. In Cheerios you're hard and determined."

Santana took in the words. Brittany was right. Glee was for fun, Glee was for her. Cheerios was for a title, was for paper and hopefully a scholarship at some point. "You think I'm beautiful."

"Always," Brittany said, smiling at the road.

Santana reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, immediately feeling at ease. She leaned back in the passenger seat and sighed.

* * *

><p>The Pierce family dinner was always a sit down affair with a flair of child-like excitement. Santana ate up every moment of it. It was lame and fun and it made her feel warm.<p>

Later, up in her room, Brittany was dancing around lightly to the music that she had started playing on her laptop. Santana watched her, smiling softly. "How is it that we spend a grueling, what? Two hours at practice and you can come home and move like you're underwater?"

Brittany stopped dancing and turned to face Santana on her bed. "It's a part of me Santana." She said it again, like it was just a fact.

Santana smiled at her and pushed herself off of the bed. She moved to her bag that had been discarded on the floor and pulled out her phone. She looked at the screen, ten missed calls. She dropped the phone from her hand.

Santana knew they were from him. She knew that he was calling on the thirteenth minute of every hour. It sent a shiver down her spine and goosebumps erupted on her skin.

"San?" Brittany said it softly and was beside her in a moment, looking at the phone lying on the floor. "What's wrong?"

Santana looked into blue eyes, her own eyes wide. She was afraid. She didn't want to admit it though. He hadn't done anything to her. It was a little creepy. Anyone would be creeped out, right? She tried reasoning with herself.

"Nothing," Santana said moving away from the phone and back to Brittany's bed.

Brittany picked up the phone and Santana watched her, body tense, as she looked at the screen, the missed calls, the times.

"He's still calling you." It wasn't a question. Her voice was flat and a frown pulled her lips downward.

"It's fine," Santana mumbled from her seat on the bed. She looked down, not wanting to make eye contact with Brittany.

"It isn't fine, Santana," Brittany said firmly.

"Look, don't make a big deal." She shrugged.

Brittany put the phone on her dresser and moved to sit next to Santana on the bed. Santana kept her eyes down and could feel Brittany watching her. "Why are you so afraid of people looking at you?"

The question caught Santana off guard and she jerked her eyes to meet blue. "I'm not afraid of people looking at me. I prefer it that way." She almost sneered at Brittany.

"No, San," Brittany began putting a hand on Santana's bare thigh. Santana felt her skin tingle under the touch but knew that wasn't what Brittany wanted. Santana had learned long ago that Brittany needed to touch, to make a physical connection when she talked. "You're afraid of people seeing you as you. You aren't invincible and this is serious."

"It's, okay," Santana pleads to the blue eyes. Those stunning blue eyes that made Santana feel naked all of the time.

"Santana, someone attacked you," Brittany said a little too loudly and stood up from the bed.

They both paused, looking at the door, waiting for a parent to come reprimand them or ask them what they were yelling about. When no one came Santana relaxed and looked back at Brittany. She stood up.

"I'm fine, okay? It was a stupid party and no one got hurt." She moved close to the girl and put her hands on Brittany's hips, pulling her close.

Brittany pulled herself away and crossed her arms. "I really don't like this, Santana." The honesty and concern in Brittany's voice broke something inside of Santana.

"Britt," Santana began. "I promise, if anything else bad happens to me, I'll tell my dad. I promise." She held up her pinkie.

Brittany stared at her hand for a long time. Finally, she relented, letting her arms fall and then linking her pinkie with Santana's. It was easy and familiar, like everything else about them. Santana pulled their hands together and kissed Brittany's.

"We should do homework, I think," Santana said realizing just how little work she had done today and how easy it would be to fall into Brittany at that moment.

"Mmm," Brittany said in reply.

Neither moved for another moment. Santana eventually broke away and set herself up at Brittany's computer, reading the Sparknotes for _Great Expectations. _Brittany was on her bed flipping through a math book, chewing on the eraser end of her pencil.

There was a knock on the door and then it swung open. Santana looked up long enough to register Brittany's mom and then went back to reading.

"Brittany," Mrs. Pierce began. "Have you seen your cat?"

"Not since this morning," Brittany said absentmindedly.

"I can't find him," Mrs. Pierce sighed.

"Well, Lord Tubbington is an inside kitty, he's probably hiding from me," Brittany said simply, shrugging slightly.

"Try to make sure he's inside before you go to bed, you know how he likes to sneak out," Mrs. Pierce said looking around the room, as if the cat was hiding from her.

"Did you check the dryer?" Brittany looked up from her math book.

Santana's eyebrows came together on their own and she turned to look at her best friend. "What?"

Brittany looked from her mom to Santana and back again. "He crawls in their all the time to protect the towels or just get warm."

"That's crazy," said Santana going back to the computer screen.

"I will check there and then you need to make sure he's in before you go to bed, okay?" Mrs. Pierce said to her daughter.

"Yes, momma, " Brittany said smiling and then ducked back down to her math book.

Santana could still feel her presence in the door way. "I suppose you're staying the night, Santana?" Mrs. Pierce didn't sound angry or excited, she sounded neutral with the slightest of edge in her voice.

"If it's cool with you, Mrs. P.," Santana said not looking away from her computer. Brittany's mother had always felt like a second mother to Santana and she felt comfortable around her.

"Sure," Mrs. Pierce sighed. "Might as well just move in."

Santana knew she meant it as a joke. "I've been waiting for you to ask that for a while now," she called as the door was shut. She heard a chuckle on the other side and smiled. She loved being at Brittany's.

The two fell into silence. Santana reading, taking notes, Brittany flipping pages or scribbling. Time passed effortlessly as both girls worked on homework.

"Pssst." Santana heard the whisper and couldn't help but smile. She ignored it.

"Pssssssst," Brittany tried again, louder. Santana felt herself shake slightly, trying not to laugh.

A small wad of paper flew over her shoulder and landed on the keyboard of Brittany's laptop. Santana looked at it then turned to look at Brittany who mouthed 'open it.' Santana smiled and tried to unravel the crumpled piece of paper without tearing it. She spread it out flat on the keyboard and read: _I'm tired of numbers and it's late. Wanna go to bed?_

Santana looked at the clock. It was almost eleven and Santana felt exhausted. Mrs. Pierce had come in to tell them goodnight a while ago and Santana knew that they would be asleep soon. They could crawl into bed and just hold each other, going to bed didn't mean sex but it's the first place Santana's mind went to.

She turned back to Brittany and nodded.

Brittany stuck her folder into her math book and closed it. She rolled off the bed with a grace Santana would kill for and put the book on her desk. Santana had in turn, shut down the computer and was standing, stretching. She had been sitting for too long and her muscles were dying for a new position.

They brushed their teeth in Brittany's bathroom, silent. Washed their faces in silence and even changed into their sleep wear in silence. Brittany pulled the blanket and sheet back and crawled into bed looking at Santana.

Santana sighed and looked down at Brittany. She felt content in that moment as if she could do this every day, the routine together, the small intimate moments they shared, as if they were playing house. Something inside of her swelled to the point where she felt she was going to pop. She climbed into the bed beside Brittany and was facing her.

They looked at each other for a long time.

"Brittany," Santana said quietly. It was the first spoken word in a long time and to Santana it felt like she was causing waves to ripple across the surface of water.

"Yeah," Brittany whispered back.

"I love you," Santana whispered.

Brittany's smile spread slowly and was soft, understanding, gentle. All of those emotions and Brittany-isms that made Santana fall in love with her day after day. She wanted to reach out and trace her smile with her fingers and then her lips. She wanted to bathe in Brittany's blue eyes and be engulfed in her completely.

"I love you too," Brittany said back and Santana knew her heart was going to burst.

She scooted forward and kissed Brittany, eyes closing so she could feel more fully. Hands moved against clothing and soon Santana was lost in Brittany, was moving with Brittany and feeling her inside and out, experiencing her, melding with her. When their rhythm brought them to the edge, Santana held onto Brittany as if she was the only thing in that world. Their bodies arched and they were lost to passion, Santana draped herself over Brittany and felt content. She felt like there was no world besides their own. No world full of vicious name calling or fear of falling in love with the wrong person or unknown phone calls.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I would like to say I worked hard on this and hope it's enjoyable. I still want more interaction from other characters but I feel like that will come, I just need to follow the plot line first. Also, this was only half of what I had originally written as 'Chapter 4' in my outline. I'm cutting it off and will make the second half of 4, 5. Which actually works better for my story. Or maybe it isn't as complete without it being one huge chapter? I guess we'll find out. Either way, I hope you like it.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: ** The response from chapter four was wonderful. Thank you for your reviews! Also, to IrishSunrise, I picked _Great Expectations_ because my friends and I were talking about the new movie coming out. It looks great, Ralphe Fiennes and Helena Bonham-Carter? How can it not be? Anyway, thank you again for your reviews and please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Santana's body had grown accustomed to waking up before anyone else did. Her body seemed to sense her anxiety and at five-ish, whenever she stayed with Brittany, she would wake up, get dressed and try to wake Brittany up to put clothes on. It never worked quite as well as Santana hoped, though. Brittany would always say she's awake and drift off to sleep and Santana would end up having to change her clothes for her. She didn't mind though, taking care of Brittany made her feel like a good person and she was starting to realize that was something she rarely ever felt.

When Santana was satisfied that they were clothed enough she scrawled back into bed to sleep for another hour or so. Brittany snuggled in close to her and Santana sighed. She knew she should pull away from her so that if her mother came in in the morning she wouldn't think anything of the two sharing a bed, but she couldn't. She wanted to hold Brittany, feel her warm body against her own.

"What are you doing," she whispered to herself as she draped an arm around Brittany.

* * *

><p>Luck would have it that Brittany's mom did not come into the bedroom that morning. Instead, Santana and Brittany had woken up before anyone else in the house had. They had both showered and were taking time fixing their hair and applying just the perfect amount of make up to appear naturally flawless when everyone else began to stir.<p>

Santana had spent all morning trying to keep her hands to herself. It was hard when Brittany was silhouetted getting undressed in the bathroom and nearly impossible when she emerged, slightly wet from her shower, clad in nothing but a towel. She rushed into her own shower and made herself stand under the cold water. She knew she was getting in too deep. Brittany never showed as much desire as Santana did.

Santana smirked at herself in Brittany's mirror. "Perfect," she said to herself.

"Mmm," Brittany agreed. It was a quarter after seven.

"Ready to go?" Santana asked walking into the bedroom and sitting on Brittany's bed, pulling on her shoes.

"It's early," Brittany said standing in the door frame.

"Well, yeah," began Santana as she laced up the tennis shoes. "Don't you want to have time for sweet lady kisses?"

Brittany grinned and Santana could help but return it.

"Yes, but," Brittany stopped.

"But what?" Santana stood up and crossed her arms. She didn't like where the conversation was headed.

"I just want to talk with you, is all," Brittany said holding eye contact.

"Okay," Santana said slowly, treading lightly. "About?"

"Us."

"Us?"

"Yes."

"What about us?" Santana immediately felt her guard go up and could feel herself waiting to deflect, evade, whatever it took.

"I don't know, San. I'm happy, I am. I just feel like I'm missing something. I want to hold your hand in the hall and kiss you between classes." She shrugged her shoulders and looked down.

Santana felt the sharp edges begin to melt away. "I know, Britt-Britt," she said in her comforting voice she reserved only for Brittany. She took a step towards the girl and grabbed her hands. "I know I'm not being good but I'm getting there, okay? I'm trying I just need time."

Brittany rolled her eyes and pulled away. "You always need time." She grabbed her bag off the desk and turned back to Santana as if waiting.

"Look," Santana said turning to face her. "There's so much going on inside of me about this, okay?"

"Like what?" Brittany's eyes were so earnest, so gentle that Santana wanted to dive right into them and be lost forever.

Santana was silent, she didn't want to talk about this now. "Can we just go?"

"Santana," Brittany said firmly.

"Fine," Santana sighed. "Let's just go and we'll talk about it later, okay? After school, I promise. My dad is working late you can come over and we'll have a heart-to-heart but can we please go now?" She hated the way she was almost begging but she didn't have it in her to have this talk just yet. There _was_ a lot swirling around in Santana. Sometimes she felt like she was caught in a whirlwind inside her own head. She didn't know how to calm her nerves or even explain what she was feeling.

It was a horrible situation and Santana knew it. She had fallen in love with her best friend, her only true comfort. The thing she needed the most comfort for lately though was the fear of coming out, the fear of feeling exposed, the fear of letting down Brittany. The person that she wanted to go to, though, was Brittany. It was a vicious cycle that Santana couldn't help but rinse and repeat.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Santana said holding out her pinkie.

* * *

><p>It was a perfect day. The weather was just cool enough to allow a light jacket over the Cheerios uniform that Brittany and Santana proudly wore to school. They were in better spirits, both now anticipating their morning routine of sitting in the parking lot and being close to each other. Santana opened the door and stepped out onto the Pierces porch.<p>

"Come on, Britt," she yelled into the house before stepping onto the concrete path. She froze immediately. "Oh god."

"Bye," Brittany yelled into the house drawing out the word.

"Brittany, no," Santana said turning quickly to close the distance between the blonde and the path, blocking her view. "Let's go back inside, okay?"

"What?" Brittany looked at her confused, cocking her head slightly. "What's the matter?"

Santana couldn't bring herself to look Brittany in the eye. She pushed her body against Brittany's, trying to gently force her back, hoping the contact would make Brittany understand and trust her. She knew she wasn't buying it though.

"Santana, what?" Brittany's eyes widened. She could sense that something was off, wrong.

"Brittany, I'm so sorry," Santana said locking eyes with the blonde.

Brittany was silent and Santana would have bet her shoe collection that she heard the girls heart pounding in her chest. Brittany pushed Santana, gently, out of her way. She stepped off the porch and gasped.

Laying in the bend of the concrete path was Brittany's cat. He was motionless, laying on his side, head bent at an angle that made Santana cringe and reminded her all too vividly of the bird she had found on her own path. His tongue lolled slightly from his open mouth, eyes open, staring at nothing.

Brittany took a step forward and fell to her knees. Her hands hovered slightly over the cats body as if she was afraid that touching him might do even more damage. "I don't understand."

Her voice was hollow, empty. Santana had never heard her sound so completely lost. She took a step forward and stood behind Brittany, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She wasn't sure what to do.

"Santana," Brittany whispered softly, she sounded strained and Santana knew she was crying. She dropped to her knees and put an arm around Brittany's shoulders, trying to pull her close.

"No," Brittany said pulling against her. She placed her hands on the cats body and gasped loudly, breath catching in her throat. "He's so cold."

Santana watched, helplessly, as Brittany's tears became sobs that shook her entire body. It was a horrible sight and Santana's heart ached for Brittany. She wanted to kiss away each tear, pull her close and reassure her that everything would be okay. Lord Tubbington hadn't been an entity Santana had cared deeply for, but she hated seeing Brittany in any type of pain. She knew that Brittany would take her pets as if she had lost a child. It was one of the qualities of Brittany that Santana admired most; her love for anyone or anything was undiluted and ever present which made a loss that much more of a tragedy.

"I'll get your dad," Santana said standing. She hated to leave Brittany, but it was all she knew to do.

* * *

><p>Moving Lord Tubbington had been harder than actually finding him. Brittany's entire family had come outside, disbelieving. Mrs. Pierce looked shocked, Mr. Pierce was wearing a constant scowl and Brittany's younger sister Kennedy had burst into tears and buried herself in her mothers side.<p>

Brittany's sobs had slowed to a steady flow of tears. But when Mr. Pierce came outside with a garbage bag and tried to put the body into the bag began sobbing again. Santana held onto her as she sobbed, hysterically, into her shoulder. Santana had never seen Brittany so broken and it hurt her in an almost physical way.

She continued to tell herself it was just a stupid cat but that only made her feel guilty. Brittany loved in a unique way and that unique way included Lord Tubbington. Her eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Britt," she repeated into the blondes hair over and over, as if the constant chant would help.

Mr. Pierce moved the garbage bag to the garage and promised to bury Lord Tubbington a proper grave when he got off of work. He pulled Brittany into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. Santana watched the exchange and felt a twinge of jealousy.

_No_, she told herself. _This is about Brittany._

Mrs. Pierce pulled Brittany into her arms, along with Kennedy when Mr. Pierce disappeared into the house. "I know this is horrible, girls, but things happen," she said, voice cracking.

When they parted, Mrs. Pierce took Kennedy inside, talking about getting ready for school. Brittany watched them retreat into the house and then turned slowly to Santana. Her face was red, eyes puffy. "He's dead, San," she said, voice quavering slightly.

"Oh babe," Santana sighed. She wanted nothing but to pull Brittany close and show her love, show her how gentle she could be with her.

"I'm going to go upstairs and wash my face," Brittany said after a moment. She looked down at the path where Lord Tubbington's body had been laying just a few minutes before. She looked to Santana then disappeared inside. Santana watched her go.

She was unsure of what to do. There were rare times that Santana felt like an intruder on the Pierce family, but this moment was definitely one of them. She realized how out of place she was and how she didn't really fit in. Had a pet died in her family it wouldn't really matter. Life would go on. She knew her father wouldn't allow pets anyway, Santana didn't even want one.

A feeling stirred in Santana, deep down where she thought nothing could reach. Some itch or urge that she didn't know how to quench or satiate was tickling at her and teasing her and she didn't have a name for it. All she knew was that she suddenly felt very alone in the world.

A buzzing noise pulled her from her own unsettling thoughts.

She looked down at her bag that had fallen, forgotten to the ground during the entire ordeal. She walked to it, still feeling uneasy and rifled through the contents until she had her phone. It buzzed in her hand.

Unknown caller.

"What do you want?" She growled into the phone. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Thought you could hide from me?" The line clicked off.

Santana felt her heart plummet out of the bottom of her feet.

* * *

><p>The house was oddly quiet. Santana was used to the noisy warmth of the Pierce family. Lord Tubbington's sudden death had silenced everything and Santana hated it. She missed the excited giggles from Brittany and Kennedy and the way Mrs. Pierce would interact playfully with Mr. Pierce over coffee and the morning paper.<p>

Everyone moved slowly. Santana watched as Mrs. Pierce helped her daughter put on her jacket and then backpack. She hugged the young girl close and Santana felt the odd itch return. She watched as Mr. Pierce hugged the young girl in turn, trying to quell the tears that were falling freely.

Mrs. Pierce looked up, making eye contact with Santana who looked away. "I've got to get Kennedy to school now and then go to work, will you make sure Brittany gets to school okay?"

"Yeah," Santana said, her voice came out as a croak. She cleared it and quickly reiterated: "Yeah, of course."

Mrs. Pierce smiled gently at Santana and she immediately saw the resemblance, the eyes, Brittany's nose. Santana's eyebrows came together and she watched as Mrs. Pierce brushed past her and called up the staircase,"Brittany, I have to go honey, I love you."

There was no reply. Santana saw Mrs. Pierce's shoulders sag. "Take care of her," the woman said turning to Santana and patting Santana on the arm.

"'Course," Santana replied.

She watched the family pull themselves together and trickle out of the house. Mr. Pierce left first, offering Santana a nod which she returned. Kennedy was starting a fresh round of tears and Santana felt like an intruder again and decided she needed to check on Brittany.

Santana felt goosebumps on her body and her feet felt like lead as she made her way up the stairs to Brittany's room. The phone call had confirmed her suspicions, the attack on Brittany's cat had been a message for her. Each step on the stair seemed to take more and more energy. She didn't want to face Brittany. This was all her fault and she knew it.

Guilt. It coursed through her veins, seeming to lap her blood as it made circuits through her body. Santana wasn't used to the feeling and didn't quite know how to deal with it. "Brittany?" She said it quietly as she stood in the door frame of Brittany's bathroom.

Brittany was standing with her hands on either side of the sink. She had her head bowed, looking at the floor. "Yeah," she replied quietly.

"Your parents had to go," Santana said. She wasn't sure what Brittany needed from her or how to reach out. It had never been an issue, comforting Brittany. This was different though, telling her that Artie was wrong for calling her stupid paled in comparison to losing a childhood pet. It was a family matter and Santana knew nothing about family.

"I heard," Brittany replied, voice betraying nothing but grief.

They stood in silence, Santana watching Brittany watch the floor. After a few moments she said,"Let's stay home today."

Brittany looked up. They held eye contact and Santana tried to convey all the love she had to give without speaking. "We can stay home and cook or just sit and talk or just be together."

Brittany nodded. Santana felt relief wash over her, like a weight had been lifted. Brittany stood up straight and glanced at herself in the mirror. Santana wanted desperately to know what she was thinking. She moved away from the sink and turned to face Santana.

"Thank you," Brittany said wrapping her arms around Santana's neck and pulling her close.

Santana didn't hesitate and wrapped her arms around Brittany. The warmth, Brittany's scent, the fact that they were home alone would have been the perfect recipe to excite Santana. But nothing seemed to be able to dampen the guilt building in Santana's gut.

"Brittany," she said quietly, pulling back from their hug. "This is my fault and I'm so, so sorry." Santana tried to emphasize each word with how badly she felt. "He called, the guy, and he said I couldn't hide from him and... and Britt," Santana felt her eyes welling up. She had caused Brittany to be in pain. She was causing the tears slowly building in Brittany's eyes that very moment. "I'm so sorry."

Brittany pulled completely away from Santana and stared at her. "I told you to tell someone." Her voice was so quiet that Santana wasn't sure she had heard her correctly. She had, though, and her blood ran cold. She wanted to scream. She hadn't actually thought Brittany would blame her and now that she was all she could feel was fear.

Fear of losing Brittany.

"Britt," Santana began again but Brittany held up a hand.

"I wanted you to tell someone before this got bad." Brittany's eyebrows were furrowed and Santana could see the anger building, the confusion.

Santana's eyes darted around Brittany's face, trying to find any shred of forgiveness. She didn't know what to do or say. She was sorry, she had apologized, Brittany was still upset. She felt helpless and again, the feeling of being an intruder seemed to sneak up behind her and blindside her at the worst possible moment.

"I'll go," Santana said after the silence had felt like a dense fog she was drowning in.

Brittany said nothing and Santana's heart felt as if it had stopped. She stepped backwards, out of the bathroom, and stood awkwardly in Brittany's room for a moment before turning away to leave. She felt cold and couldn't believe this was actually happening. Santana knew she was at fault but had never expected Brittany to agree.

_What,_ she thought to herself. _You wanted her to comfort you?_ Self-loathing gripped fiercely at Santana as she realized that, yes, all she had wanted was for Brittany to tell her everything was okay. When had she become the weak one?

"Santana." Santana turned around quickly and Brittany was there in her face, on her lips, running her fingers through her hair.

Santana broke away from her, gasping for breath and looked into Brittany's eyes, searching for an answer.

"I need you," Brittany said quickly before pressing herself against Santana. Their lips met and this time Santana was prepared, was waiting, wanting.

Their lips moved easily against each other and when Santana felt Brittany's tongue slide against hers she couldn't help but moan, couldn't help herself when her body pressed against Brittany's, begging for more contact, any contact.

Santana felt nimble hands on the zipper of her Cheerios uniform and they broke their kiss. Brittany worked quickly, removing each piece of Santana's clothing as quickly and efficiently as possible. Santana wasn't used to being the desired one. She was always in control always needing Brittany in ways she thought Brittany could never understand. This feeling now, though, of Brittany needing to kiss her, touch her, feel their bodies pressed together was intoxicating and invigorating.

She let Brittany push her onto her bed and crawl on top of her, kissing her neck and feeling warm hands run the length of her body. Santana moaned when she felt Brittany's hand sliding down her stomach and stopping at her hipbone.

"Brittany," Santana said quietly. Brittany was the one upset, Brittany was the one who should be getting attention, but here she was, showering Santana with love when Santana knew Brittany's grief was her own fault.

"No, San, I need you," Brittany repeated into Santana's ears. She shivered and Brittany kissed her full on the lips before sliding her hand lower and lower until..

"Oh," Santana gasped. She hadn't realized how desperate her need had become until she felt Brittany moving inside of her. Her back arched and she laced her fingers through Brittany's hair, pulling her closer, deeper.

Brittany's rhythm increased and Santana had to break her lips away when Brittany hit a particularly sensitive spot. Santana moan loudly and her breath was erratic. She looked up into Brittany's eyes, trying to tell her how much she loved her because she couldn't find the words. She felt herself coming apart as if the edges of her being were become fuzzy and she knew that she was going to fall away. She grabbed onto Brittany and held on, panting, and writhing beneath her unable to stop as Brittany continued her work.

When Santana's body slackened back onto the bed and her breathing began to calm Brittany slowed her hand and pulled away from Santana, who shivered. Brittany hovered over the girl and they locked eyes.

Santana felt hot, there was a sheen of sweat on her bare chest. She was very suddenly aware that Brittany was still fully dressed. She moved her hands to undo Brittany's Cheerios shirt but a hand stopped her.

"What?" Santana asked quietly.

"I just..." She stopped. She sat back on her haunches and Santana pulled herself into a sitting position. She watched, transfixed as Brittany took off her clothes, slowly, by herself. It wasn't meant to excite or tease and Santana knew that, so she sat, patiently until they were both nude.

"What is it?" Santana was almost whispering. She felt like they had fallen into their own world and if she talked too loudly she would spoil it and the borders would meld with reality.

"Can we just lay here?" Santana had never seen Brittany look so vulnerable and completely sad.

"Come here," she said.

Santana slid lower into the bed and Brittany found a spot next to her. Santana pulled her close and rested her forehead against Brittany's. "I'm sad, San," Brittany said after a few moments.

"I know," Santana said as gently as she could. She began humming softly. It wasn't a particular melody or a song, just soft humming that she hoped would soothe Brittany.

Santana brushed away the stray tears that fell from Brittany's eyes and let her hands wander up and down her side until Brittany fell asleep, Santana not that far behind her.

* * *

><p>Sleep did not stay with them long. Soon, Santana found herself stretching and reveling in the fact that she was nude beneath Brittany's blankets, with Brittany, mid-morning. It was wonderful and a secret daydream of hers. Then she remembered why they had decided to stay home.<p>

Santana suddenly became very aware. She sat up and bed. Brittany was sitting, fully dressed on the edge.

"Britt," Santana said softly.

"Hey, San," Brittany said just as softly. She didn't turn to look at her.

"How long have you been up?" Santana pulled the sheet up around her chest. She hadn't felt awkward being nude around Brittany for a long time.

"Not long. I just didn't want to be in bed anymore."

Santana wanted nothing more than to pull Brittany back into bed with her. To hold her, stroke her hair and whisper sweet nothings until they both felt better. "Let's go get food," Santana said getting out of bed, wrapping Brittany's blanket around her like a towel. She moved to Brittany's closet and began searching for something to wear. Her sleepover had been impromptu.

"I'm not that hungry," Brittany said standing and joining Santana at her close. She stood behind Santana and rested her head on the shorter girls shoulder.

Santana couldn't help but smile. This was the Brittany she knew how to help and comfort. The awkwardness and the anger and confusion from earlier had seemed to dissipate in their sleep. She found something to pull on to wear around the house, though the pants were a little long.

"Come on," Santana said lacing Brittany's fingers in her own.

The house still retained odd;y silent and Santana felt like they were in a library. Afraid the slightest of noise would disturb someone. When they entered the kitchen Brittany sat on one of the bars-tools and rested her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands.

Santana opened the refrigerator, checked the cabinets and stood thinking for a long time. She wasn't good at cooking, never had been. She could make a few things her grandmother had taught her and knew tricks from watching her mother cook during the holidays but she knew she was way over her head.

She pulled out a phone book.

"I don't think that's a cook book," Brittany said head slightly cocked.

Santana smiled. "I gots this Britt-Britt."

Santana might not be able to cook, but she could spend money on her fathers credit card and pizza sounded fantastic.

* * *

><p>They spent the rest of the day eating pizza, watching Brittany's favorite movies, and talking about how great a cat Lord Tubbington had been. Santana did most of the listening during the talks. Brittany would often begin with a funny story and giggle at the memory. Santana would see the tears welling in her eyes and she would kiss them away or hold Brittany's hand.<p>

As hard as it was to see Brittany upset Santana couldn't help but love taking care of her. Brittany needed a day off and Santana was going to make sure it was the best she had ever had.

Still, Santana knew that things were definitely not okay. She played it off and the fear was easy to ignore while Brittany was so needy but she knew that the Unknown caller was haunting her and it was beginning to take it's toll.

When three o'clock rolled around Santana pulled Brittany close and told her that they definitely weren't going to Cheerios practice and Sue could suck it.

All in all Santana felt that it was a really productive day.

* * *

><p>The following day didn't run as smoothly.<p>

Sue had found Santana in the hallway when she and Brittany walked into the school, pinkies linked. Brittany was wearing black leg warmers on her arms to show mourning for Lord Tubbington.

"And where was my head cheerleader during practice yesterday? I'll tell you where she wasn't. My practice. You know that the only excuse for missing practice is loss of limb. You better have a good excuse or I'll have to rethink my choice of captaincy J. Lo." Sue was practically yelling at her in the middle of the hallway.

Santana felt her ears go hot as people stared at her. She let go of Brittany's hand and clenched her fists into balls. "I'm sorry," she said, head bowed slightly. Santana felt stuck. She didn't want people to look at her while she was getting a verbal lashing but she couldn't fight Sue Sylvester. Not alone.

"It was my fault, Coach," Brittany spoke up beside Santana.

"Excuse me, blondie?"

"Lord Tubbington was tragically taken from me yesterday and Santana was helping...," Brittany trailed off under the hard stare of Coach Sylvester.

There was silence and neither Brittany nor Santana knew what to do or if they were even allowed to do anything.

"Unbelievable," Sue said stalking away from them. "I better see your sweet cans on the field today or heads will roll!" She yelled it back towards them. They watched, wide-eyed as Sue marched down the hallway, occasionally shoving an innocent student into a locker without warning.

"Close one," Santana said chuckling slightly, trying to shake off the encounter.

"Why did you do that?" Brittany's eyebrow was creased.

"Do what?"

"You let go of my pinkie."

"Britt, we were getting yelled at," Santana said evasively.

"People were looking at us." She said it slowly as if she was finally putting the pieces together.

Santana's heart began to thud in her chest. "Look, we're going to be late. I'll talk to you in Glee, okay?"

With that Santana left Brittany standing in the hall. It was true, she did have to get to class, they both did. Santana was afraid of Brittany figuring out that yes, she had let go of Brittany because people were staring. She couldn't have people seeing her using Brittany for comfort.

They would know and no one could know.

* * *

><p>When Santana arrived in the choir room people were sitting around Brittany listening to her account of what had happened to Lord Tubbington.<p>

"My dog got hit by a car when I was ten. Really tore me up," Puck said to Brittany clapping a hand to her shoulder and then retreating away.

Santana rolled her eyes. _Boys._

"Brittany, I'm so sorry for your loss," Rachel began. "But you do realize that you're still wearing them wrong, don't you?"

"Let it go, dwarf," Santana spat at Rachel, pushing past her to take a seat next to Brittany. "It's irrelevant at this point in the game. You're just jealous you can't pull this look off."

Rachel scowled. "How nice of you to join us, Santana." Santana smirked as Rachel retreated back to Finn.

"Hey," she said quietly to Brittany, reaching to link pinkies together. Brittany wouldn't budge. "Britt," she began.

Kurt interrupted her.

"Weren't you having trouble with dead animals on your walk, Santana?" Santana's heart began to thud slowly, heavily, in her chest.

"Whaddya mean?" It came out slurred and in a hurry. She cleared her throat, she didn't need her panic to come through.

"I mean," began Kurt, shifting in his chair and recrossing his legs. He leaned closer to Santana, bringing the conversation to a more intimate level. "Weren't you finding dead animals? Now Brittany?"

"So," Santana said defensively. "You were too."

"Not just me," Kurt said quietly. "Blaine's been finding rats too."

"What?" Her voice was low and she felt like her heart had stopped altogether.

"A little odd, isn't it?" Santana watched as Kurt's eyes searched her face. "I wonder what we all have in common." His smirk turned quickly into a grimace and he leaned back in his chair. He held Santana's gaze for just a moment more and Santana knew he was putting pieces of the puzzle together.

_What do we all have in common?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong> I just have to tell you all that I am loving writing this story. All of this was supposed to go into Chapter 4 so I'm really glad I split it up. Otherwise, that would have been like a 20 page chapter. Anyway. I hope I can keep on expanding on each chapter as I go. That would be great. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter as much as you could, considering.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **It's really nice to hear that you all enjoying the story. I know that the plot is kinda out there, but I really wanted to write a Brittana centric scary story. Actually, I have a lot of random ideas for Brittana centered stories. Anyway, thanks again for the reviews and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

The rest of the week went by without incident. No more calls or dead animals. Santana was sure that the person who had been terrorizing her must have gotten scared. He must have realized that killing Brittany's cat had gone too far. He must have realized that he was in over his head and that involving other people would just lead to eventually getting caught.

Right?

She shook her head as if hoping the movement would dislodge the thoughts from her head. It had been plaguing her when she was alone. The thought that her creepy caller was still out there never set well with her. So she tried to fill all of her free time with anything to keep her thoughts focused elsewhere Brittany was still in mourning and Santana was by her side, day or night, without complaint. She loved taking care of Brittany and it helped keep her from lingering on unsavory things. Part of her couldn't understand why Brittany was so upset over Lord Tubbington, though. He had been a good cat but he was just a cat.

It bothered her, though, that she couldn't understand Brittany's continued anguish. It bothered her that being around Brittany's family anymore made that odd itch come back, as if she was missing something. It always felt heavy in the pit of her stomach. Alone with Brittany was easy though, so Santana made sure that happened even more than usual.

Santana was still caught up in all of her thoughts and feelings. They were becoming so entangled that she wasn't sure which was which anymore or how to deal with them. It was as if everything was building up inside of her and she had no way to get rid of it. No outlet.

Life was fine, though, she could handle the load and did so without a single complaint. She had Brittany and Glee and Cheerios and popularity. She knew she had nothing to complain _about_ anyway. Still, Santana felt that something was keeping her on alert, she could feel the creepy callers presence even if he wasn't calling or harassing her.

"He's stopped, San," Brittany had said at school one day. "Stop worrying about it. He realized what he's been doing is wrong when he saw how upset I was and he's leaving us alone." She smiled at Santana, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah, I guess," Santana replied.

Brittany linked their pinkies together and pulled Santana down the hall. Santana felt relieved to have someone leading her in the right direction. She was too far gone in her own thoughts to realize that class would be starting in just a few short minutes.

Santana just couldn't shake the feeling that, no, the caller hadn't stopped, that he was, in fact, just getting started. The thought scared the hell out of her.

She gripped Brittany tighter as they made their way to class.

* * *

><p>"We can watch a movie," Santana said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard of her bed.<p>

"I dunno," Brittany mumbled. She remained lying on Santana's bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Santana crossed her legs. "What's wrong?" She knew something was bothering Brittany, she always knew.

"Nothing," Brittany sighed. She pulled herself into a sitting position by Santana. She began picking at a piece of lose fabric on Santana's comforter.

Santana's eyebrows came together as she watched. "I know something is bothering you," she said with an edge to her voice. She hadn't meant for it to be there but something in the way Brittany was avoiding talking about whatever was on her mind put her on edge.

"Fine," Brittany said shrugging her shoulders and looking up. "I wanna talk."

Santana felt something inside of her freeze. Her body seemed to go on high alert and she hated it. Santana felt the barricade coming up, felt the walls rise, felt herself trying to turn to stone. Long ago it had been a defense and now it was a habit that she couldn't seem to shake off. Now it hindered her from being and being with Brittany.

"About what?" Her voice was strained slightly and she watched as the light seemed to leave Brittany's eyes.

"About us."

The room seemed to become still, as if the world had stopped turning.

"I still want to talk about it," Brittany said to break the tension. "We got distracted and you said you'd talk about it."

Santana looked at her lap, her hands were twisting together. She didn't want to do this.

"Fine," Santana said, keeping her head down. "What about us?"

Brittany's reply didn't come immediately and Santana looked up, watching her struggle to find the words.

"Santana," Brittany began, voice heavy. She sounded tired, older, and Santana didn't like it. She didn't like that it had been her that put that tone there. "I want to be your girlfriend. I mean, I guess we are or something but I want to be able to take you places without having to hide it. It doesn't feel right to me."

Santana nodded slowly. She knew Brittany was right. It didn't feel right to her either, but it was all she knew to do. She couldn't work past what was keeping her from letting go of the fear. Santana felt a battle building inside of her. She wanted to say everything to Brittany. Tell her everything, her fear and dread and her love. She couldn't. The words wouldn't come.

"Say something," Brittany said quietly.

"I'm trying," Santana said quietly.

The world outside was quiet. The evening was calm and cool but Santana felt like her insides were exploding. She felt like something was physically stopping her from explaining herself to Brittany. Like she could feel invisible hands on her mouth, on her throat.

"Ugh," she yelled to the room. She pushed off of the bed and paced her bedroom. "I don't know why this is so hard."

Brittany turned to face her and Santana chanced a glance at the blonde's face. She hated that all she saw was concern, that Brittany was so caring and understanding and all Santana had to give her was misplaced anger and harsh words when the words did come. She wanted Brittany to be angry because then she could be angry and she wouldn't have to talk about anything.

"I don't want it to be, Santana," Brittany said softly. "I don't want this to be hard for us. It shouldn't be."

Santana scoffed. "It never was hard until you made me talk about it," she barked at Brittany. "It was easier when we were just fucking." She stopped pacing, her feet had become lead. She had crossed a line and she knew it. Guilt flooded over her.

"Just fucking?" The words sounded dirty and wrong coming from Brittany and Santana visibly flinched. "That's all we are, just fucking?"

Santana sighed and faced Brittany, locking their eyes. "I meant before we talked about everything."

Brittany held Santana's gaze for a moment more before standing up. Santana saw it flash in her blue eyes and felt her heart seize. She was leaving.

"Britt," Santana began, stepping forward. She wanted to pull her close, inhale her, melt into her.

"Look, Santana, I love you and I know you love me, you've told me. Not just like you've told me as a friend. You've told me you're in love with me and I want to be with you. But if you're still going to convince yourself we're just fucking, I don't want to be a part of it." She grabbed her jacket from the bed and brushed past Santana. "I thought we'd moved past this."

"I didn't mean it like that," Santana said as Brittany opened the door. "Brittany I do love you, I need you." Santana was desperate to keep her here. She was afraid if Brittany left she would be gone forever. She could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes and couldn't quite explain why they were there. Anytime Santana let herself feel anything the emotions poured out of her and it was like she had pulled the last straw out of a dam; everything came rushing out and she was never able to stop it.

Brittany stopped and Santana watched her shoulders sag. She turned and looked Santana over. "I know," she said softly. "I love you, too."

Santana felt her entire body relax.

"I didn't mean it like that. Of course this is so much more than sex, you know that. I'm just not ready." The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly. She needed Brittany to understand where she was coming from. "This just got out of control. Please don't go."

"I can't have you biting my head off every time I want to talk about us," Brittany said firmly. "I know this is hard but I'm on your side in case you haven't noticed." The slight venom in Brittany's voice sunk into Santana's veins and made her heart stop.

She watched as Brittany left her room, felt the sound of Brittany's foot steps down the stairs echo deep inside of her and flinched when she heard the front door slam shut.

"Britt," she said softly. The tears fell thick and hot from her eyes.

* * *

><p>Santana had collapsed on her bed and cried until there were no more tears. She felt drained.<p>

The build up of everything was finally catching up. Santana was angry at herself for not being able to handle it all, angry at herself for not being able to tell the world how she felt, angry that she had become so stressed out that she wasn't able to do anything or spend any time alone.

She huffed out her sigh. How could Brittany just expect her to be so open? Santana wished Brittany could see that it took years to admit that she was in love with her best friend _to _her best friend. How could she just tell the world? It wasn't that easy.

Santana rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to clear away what was left of her tears. She sighed and stretched on her bed, rolling onto her back.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She shot up, hope pulsing through her and causing her heart to flutter. She prayed it was Brittany.

Unknown caller.

Santana felt herself freeze as if she really had turned to stone. Her jaw tightened and her eyes widened.

She answered it. "What?" Her nerves betrayed her, voice shaking slightly.

A laugh hissed through the phone and Santana shivered.

"What?" She snapped at him, voice now firm.

"Home alone? Perfect."

Santana heard the line go silent and knew he had disconnected. She felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice over her head. She was frozen in place, frozen with fear and the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her shaky breathing.

The sound of the front door banging open below her caused her to flinch. The spell fear had on her now broken, she felt panic set in.

Someone was in her house.

She jumped off of her bed and slammed her door shut and locked it. The sound seemed to echo through the house and Santana heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.

She could barely breath. He was here. She was trapped.

She grabbed her desk chair and wedged it under the door knob, something she had seen in an old movie.

The footsteps stopped.

So did Santana's heart.

So did her breathing.

She heard a slamming sound down the hall, it sounded as if someone had opened a door too hard. He was searching for her.

As quietly as she could manage she made her way to her closet, shutting herself in and sinking into her clothes. Her phone was still grasped tightly in her hand. She pulled it close to her face and opened the keypad. She dialed 911 and pressed the phone to her ear.

Santana jumped when she heard her door knob being twisted, hard.

Her room was silent, except for the voice in her ear.

Santana felt like she was being pulled back to Earth. "Someone broke into my house." She wasn't listening to the operator on the other end of the line, though.

"Where do you live?"

Santana repeated her address as quickly as she could. She was listening hard for any noise to indicate where her intruder was.

"If possible I need you to lock yourself in a room, police are on the way," the operator told her.

"I'm locked in my room," Santana whispered. "I can't hear him now."

A bang echoed so loudly and suddenly through the house that Santana yelled in shock. Her phone slipped from her hand and fell to the closet floor. Santana made no move to pick it up. She braced her hands against the closet door, hoping to keep it closed if the intruder did get into her room.

The bang echoed through the house again.

He was slamming himself against the door.

Santana's couldn't remember how to breath. All she could focus on was the the slamming noise, how very cold her feet suddenly felt and the fact that she was so relieved Brittany wasn't there to suffer through this with her.

The body slammed against the door again but this time it was followed by a scream. It was so guttural and animal that Santana didn't think it could possibly be human. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest it hurt. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

"I know you're in there," the voice screamed beyond the door. It was throaty and angry. Santana had never heard anyone yell like that and she never wanted to again.

Her body shook and her breathing was out of her control. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mind was racing a mile a minute. She was terrified, nauseous and knew that now she was just waiting. Waiting until the police got to her house or the intruder broke down her door.

She heard the slam again and jumped, whimpering slightly when she heard the wood of her door creak.

"I hear you," the voice yelled.

"I called the police," Santana yelled before she could stop herself.

The entire house seemed to go completely still. Santana felt herself relax slightly and she sighed. Had he left?

She let her arms relax.

There was a loud crack as the intruder slammed himself against her bedroom door.

She sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around her body, eyes closed tight, praying for someone to help her.

* * *

><p>It took ten minutes of back and forth yelling before the police coaxed Santana to crawl out of her closet and open her bedroom door. The chair had fallen on it's side and Santana picked it up, slowly, and set it right at her desk. Her door looked like, well, someone had been slamming themselves into it with an intent to kill. She unlocked the door and had to pull hard to get it to release.<p>

Two policemen were staring at her. Only then did she realize how awful she must look, smeared make up and puffy red eyes from crying.

"Are you alright?" One of them asked her slowly.

Santana's eyebrows automatically came together and she stared at the office, wondering why he was talking to her like she was a child. She didn't reply.

"Come on," the other office said gently, grabbing her elbow and leading her down stairs. He asked her to sit on the couch and she complied. She felt weak, suddenly and her legs shook felt like jelly beneath her. She hunched forward and held herself like she had done in her closet.

"Is there someone we can call?"

She nodded.

The room was silent.

"Can you tell me who to call?"

Santana looked up. The policeman was kneeling down to her eye level. His face looked pained, as if this was hard for him. Her brow furrowed again. She didn't understand what was going on anymore. All she wanted was Brittany. They had argued, she couldn't call Brittany.

"My dad," she said so softly she was afraid no one had heard her. She cleared her throat. "My dad." Her voice sounded deeper than usual.

"What's his number?"

Santana sighed. All of the questions felt like too much work. She resisted the urge to lie down on the couch and just go to sleep.

* * *

><p>Her father arrived thirty minutes later. Santana was still on the couch, the policeman sitting on the coffee table asking her questions and scribbling on a notepad he had pulled out of his jacked pocket.<p>

The sound of the front door opening hard and closing made Santana jump. The policemen both looked up and when Santana's father appeared in the living room relief washed over her.

"Daddy," she nearly whimpered from her place on the sofa. She felt torn. Part of her wanted to rush into his arms and feel safe. The other part wanted to stand her ground and prove she was strong. A third part was still begging for her to lie down on the couch and something in the back of her mind was itching for her to call Brittany.

"Mija," he said moving quickly to sit beside her. He pulled her close to his chest in a way he hadn't done in years. Santana let him and closed her eyes. He smelled like an odd mix between her childhood memories and antiseptic, safe and clean. He was still wearing scrubs.

"Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?" His voice was strained and he looked old. Older than Santana remembered him ever looking.

She shook her head and buried her face into his chest.

"Dr. Lopez?" It was the office sitting on the coffee table.

"Yes," he answered. Santana felt him turn to look at the two men standing in his living room.

"I know this is hard," he began but the other office cut him off.

"There was no sign of forced entry. The door was unlocked when we arrived."

Santana felt her fathers grip on her tighten for a fraction of a second.

"Santana isn't too good with remembering to lock doors," he said flatly.

She tried to push herself deeper into his chest. She felt like a small child and felt no guilt about it. She needed to feel safe.

"Well, she's lucky," said the sitting officer.

The other policeman made a noise Santana couldn't quite decipher the meaning of. She felt her fathers grip tighten.

"Her door," began the sitting office quickly. "There's evidence that someone was trying to break in. Santana told us that she heard the front door open and locked herself in her room. That she could hear what sounded like someone slamming their bodies against the door and yelling."

There was silence.

It built and built around Santana until she felt like she would suffocate.

"He yelled something at me," she said suddenly.

She felt every eye in the room shift onto her. "He said, 'I know you're in there.' and 'I can hear you.'"

Santana felt her body shiver as the animal voice seemed to fill her head and echo through the very core of her being. Her father stroked her arm, gently, like he used to when she was younger and less afraid of looking like a child when he held her close to scare away the monsters.

"Santana," it was the sitting office. She forced herself to turn her head and look at him. "You've got to keep your doors locked, especially when you're here alone at night."

"I forgot. My...," she trailed off. "Friend. My friend was over and we argued and I just forgot to when she left."

"Brittany? You argued with Brittany?" Her fathers surprised tone made Santana feel even worse about the argument that had transpired a few hours ago.

"I'm truly sorry to tell you that that's all we can do for now. I have your statement and if you ever feel uncomfortable here alone again you can call me." The office reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card. "That's my number. Office Simpson."

Santana took the card from him and nodded.

"Thank you," Dr. Lopez replied for her.

"It's been a rough night," Office Simpson said standing and stretching his legs slightly. "Make sure you lock your door tonight."

Santana's dad released his grip on her and pulled away. She made herself let go and curled into a ball on the couch while her dad showed the policemen out.

She can hear him reenter the living room and sit down on the coffee table where Office Simpson had been sitting only moments before. He placed a hand on her knee.

"Tell me what happened," he said gently.

She told him. She let it spill out of her, the fear, the anxiety. It wasn't explaining like she had to do for the policemen, it was release, it was relief. She felt her body trembling slightly and the tears welling in her eyes. Santana felt the reality of the situation hit her like the body had slammed her to the ground at that party. This had stopped being a lame Halloween prank and turned into something real and dangerous.

She wanted to tell her dad everything but something made her hold back. Those invisible hands that had stretched across her body when she was with Brittany earlier. They were snaking their way across her skin, holding everything inside of her until she was sure the pressure of it all would force her to explode.

Before she could say anything he spoke: "You and Brittany got into a fight?"

Santana was caught off guard. "Yeah," she said slowly, head down.

"About what?" He moved from the table to the couch and pulled Santana in close to him again. She settled easily against him. It was like riding a bike for the first time after years. At first she was unsure and then when she let go of trepidation she was able to let him hold her like a child. She was able to let go and let him father her.

"About stupid things," Santana said unable to delve deeper into the topic of Brittany. She definitely wasn't ready to tell him about their relationship or whatever it was they had.

"That can happen," he said stroking her hair.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Santana felt drained, exhausted. It was too much strain for one day and all she wanted was to sleep.

She let her eyes flutter shut and was soothed by the sound of her father humming nonsense to her as a lullaby, stroking her hair and sometimes whispering reassuring statements about how much he loved her. She wasn't sure who he was saying those things for, her or himself. As the first tendrils of sleep gripped her around the edges of her mind she felt that odd itch that she got around Brittany's family become satiated, full, as if she had been starving and just eaten a very large meal.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I really feel like things are starting to move now. It's getting pretty awesome to write this. Still, I'm worried about style. Granted, this is fanfiction, but it's also sort of like an exercise to get me back into writing, you know? I'm so used to writing first person for my other story that I feel like this one sucks as a third person piece. It's just been so long since writing third person, I worry. Feedback appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Thanks for the continued reviews/favs/alerts. You guys rock.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Santana still felt exhausted beyond her years when school rolled around the next day. There had been no text in the morning from Brittany, letting her know she was coming to get her. Santana drove herself to school alone and arrived on time for the first time in what felt like years.

Her heart weighed heavy in her chest and her feet felt like someone had tied cinder blocks to her shoes. She walked through the halls, head held high, refusing to let anyone see her weak. Last night there was no pressure to put up a facade around her father and it had been such a relief. Such a relief that Santana questioned why she bothered putting on her game face it to begin with. As she walked down the hall, she realized being this Santana Lopez that people feared was so much harder than she had ever thought it would be. It literally was draining away who she really was.

She felt too far gone to stop, though.

At her locker she shuffled her books around, looking for her damn math book. She had stopped taking her Spanish book a long time ago, simply looking off of Brittany's if she needed to, it made her book load for the rest of the day lighter. She shut the locker door and Brittany was there, looking at her with a calculated expression that Santana couldn't read.

"Hi," she said, heart fluttering with nerves. Santana wasn't sure how they were supposed to act around each other. All of her feelings from the previous night had washed away as soon as the Unknown caller had called. She wanted to pull Brittany close for a hug, even if people were watching. She needed the comfort, craved it.

"Someone broke into your house?" Her expression changed, it was concerned but Santana couldn't help but feel there was annoyance hiding in the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah," She replied glancing at the people around her. She didn't want anyone to know and feel sorry for her. "How did you know?"

"I heard it from Jessica," Brittany said quickly. "Why didn't you call me?"

"We had a fight," Santana said slowly. Her head was spinning. How had Jessica known? She grimaced. Jessica was an up-and-coming in the Cheerios who made it her business to know everything. What better way to get on top? How many people knew, though? Why had no one asked her if she was okay if it was such common knowledge? A million emotions spread through her at once, anger, betrayal and sadness that people either didn't care or were too afraid to approach her.

Two years ago that would have thrilled her. Having all of the attention because someone had broken into her house and she had showed up at school the next day, head held high, hips swaying provocatively as she made her way down the hallways she had once run.

What had changed?

Santana knew she had changed over the years. Glee had transformed her into someone she was starting to like. Someone who was more than just angry comments and a hot body. Brittany had softened her. Brittany was slowly, very slowly, pulling the real Santana Lopez out into the light.

She remembered the time the entire Glee club had tore into her and how she had been reduced to tears in the hallway. Brittany had been there to soothe her. They had been right, all she did was tear people down and now all she wanted was to let that person go and embrace who she wanted to be. Who she was with Brittany.

It was too much. It was her entire identity being shifted and it felt like the earth had moved beneath her. She was suddenly breathless. Everything clicked inside of her and fell into place. An epiphany that shook her to her core.

She turned her wide eyes on Brittany's.

"I'm your best friend, Santana," Brittany said with a bite to her voice. Santana didn't know how she could be so annoyed with her. She was trying her best to do what she felt was right but it was hard and it was suffocating.

"I know," Santana said, inhaling trying to calm her heartbeat. She felt like she was on another planet, far away from this body and the conversation. Something was changing inside of her and she couldn't stop it, only hold on and hope that she came out the other side for the better.

"Do you?" Brittany's expression changed. "Are you okay?" Annoyance was replaced with concern so quickly that Santana couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," she said, shaking herself, trying to force the feeling down.

"You look sick," Brittany said gently. She made a move towards Santana and then stopped herself. Her eyes lost some of their Brittany-brightness that Santana had fallen in love with and her heart sank. She knew she had caused Brittany to stop, caused the light to fade.

But she couldn't let her show affection in the crowded hallway. Not right now.

Santana felt lost inside her own emotions.

"Let's go to Glee," Brittany said turning away from Santana and heading down the hall.

Santana exhaled and watched Brittany walk away without her. She hated seeing her alone in the halls and hated herself for not running to her and lacing their fingers together.

_Figure your own shit out_, she told herself firmly.

Santana sighed and made her way after Brittany, towards Glee, hoping she _could_ figure her shit out because it was starting to feel like her shit was swallowing her alive.

* * *

><p>"Okay guys," Mr. Schue began. The class silenced it's chatter almost immediately. Santana looked over at Brittany. She was sitting with Mike and Tina, smiling and laughing. It had been the first time during the year they had sat away from each other and Santana felt naked without Brittany there.<p>

"As you all know, Figgins wants to try out something new for Halloween this year." Santana looked up, confusion written plainly on her face. She glanced at Brittany who looked confused as well but was also listening intently. Halloween was Brittany's favorite holiday, besides Christmas.

"He wants to do a fall festival to raise money for the school," Mr. Schue said happily. He held his arms out as if expecting applause to shower over him from the announcement.

Santana sighed, other people groaned their disapproval.

"What?" Brittany said to the class. "What's wrong with that?"

All eyes were trained on her. "Don't you remember those lame festivals we used to do in elementary when you could play games in each classroom?" Quinn said, turning in her chair to face Brittany.

"Yeah," Brittany said slowly.

"That's what he wants us to do. It's lame." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Dude, those were so awesome. I used to win a goldfish every year." Brittany was smiling wide.

"Well, it's a bit different from that," Mr. Schue began again trying to pull the attention back to him. "It's a haunted house theme. Clubs or classrooms can participate and turn their room into a haunted house."

The mood in the choir room changed and Santana felt herself listening more closely.

"I already signed New Directions up to participate," Mr. Schue finished.

"What?" It was Quinn again.

"Listen, guys," Mr. Schue began holding up a hand. "When you get to the festival you have to buy tickets, at the end of the night each club turns its tickets in and gets a dollar for every four tickets. That's money straight into the Glee clubs pocket. We can use some of old Rocky Horror stuff to make the classroom look crazy. This is a great opportunity for us to raise money and we're doing it." He looked firm and crossed his arms.

"I'm totally down," Brittany said immediately. Santana smiled.

"You know, guys, this could be fun," Tina said out of the blue, everyone turned to her.

"Fine," Quinn mumbled. "I'm not wearing fake blood."

The room erupted. People were talking, brainstorming, laughing. Santana watched the group and smiled. They were a united front. It rarely happened, but when it did, Santana felt it fill something inside of her, some space she seemed to forget she had until she was reminded it was empty.

Santana looked over to Brittany and their eyes met. Brittany smiled, the excitement of the haunted house overshadowing her anger, and Santana felt her stomach flip-flop. God, she had it bad.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schue began again, calming the class down. "We're going to need someone to put this together, a leader. Someone creative and good at thinking outside of the box and I know just the right people."

Santana rolled her eyes. Rachel had sat up straighter in her chair at word 'creative.' Santana resisted the urge to throw things at her.

"I think that Tina would be a great co-leader for the New Directions Haunted House," Mr. Schue said smiling big.

Mike kissed Tina on the cheek and she stood up and walked awkwardly to the front of the class to stand by Mr. Schue.

"You only picked me for this because of the way I dress, didn't you?" She looked skeptically at Mr. Schue who laughed nervously.

"Well," he began.

"I totally love it," Tina said quickly. She looked as if she was afraid that someone would steal away her moment in the spotlight if she said anything else.

"Good," Mr. Schue said smiling. "But you're just the co-leader."

Santana smirked as Rachel perked back up. She had watched the girl's shoulders slump when her name hadn't been called. Finn had placed an arm gently around her shoulders. An arm which was now being forced off by Rachel scooting to the edge of her seat.

"Brittany," Mr. Schue said.

Everyone turned to look at Brittany, including Santana.

Brittany, on the other hand, looked shocked, as if she hadn't quite heard right. Her eyes darted around to meet everyone's, lingering just a half a beat longer on Santana. She made no move to stand up.

"Brittany, do you want to be co-head runner of the haunted house with Tina?" Mr. Schue asked it slowly, as if Brittany didn't understand what he was asking of her. Santana wanted to punch him, she knew Brittany was just shocked.

Brittany glanced at Santana who nodded quickly at her.

"That would be fantastic," she said drawing out each word, savoring the moment.

She joined Tina at the head of the class.

"Okay, let's get to brainstorming," Mr. Schue said clapping his hands together.

* * *

><p>"What about clowns?" Puck suggested. "Clowns are scary sh...stuff." He corrected himself as Mr. Schue shot him a look. They were sitting in a circle while Tina and Brittany scribbled things on a pad of paper. Brittany looked deep in thought.<p>

"No, absolutely not," Kurt said suddenly. "Clowns have terrified me since I was a child and we will not do clowns."

"No clowns then," said Tina crossing out something on her notebook.

"Clowns are lame," Brittany said. Everyone turned to look at her. "We can do better than that."

Her odd determination washed over the group and they seemed to go into hyper-drive, throwing out ideas left and right.

It took them a long time and a lot of thinking and patience but with twenty minutes left of class they come up with their theme: Blood and Massacre.

"So, the name could use some work," Tina said writing the plans she and Brittany had put together on the dry erase board. "But it's simple and with the space in the choir room we can pull it off."

"Yeah," Brittany began beside her. "It's great. There are three parts."

"Part one," Tina began. They work so well together that Santana can't believe they hadn't rehearsed their presentation. She felt a twinge of jealousy in her at how easily they got along. She pushed the feeling away, she wasn't going to let her petty feelings stomp on Brittany's moment. "You enter and there is a table with body parts you are forced to sample."

Santana chuckled at the look on Quinn and Rachel's face.

"What?" Quinn asked staring at the girls like she'd never seen them before.

"Don't worry, Quinny," Brittany said gently. "It'll be like peeled grapes for eyes and badly cooked noodles for innards and stuff. You just reach a hand in and get a scare."

"Gross," Rachel mumbled.

"I like it," Finn whispered to her.

Santana rolled her eyes and looked back to Brittany.

"The next part will take some work," she began. "We want to have someone hanging from the ceiling. Like they just hung themselves."

"Brittany," Mr. Schue tried to interrupt.

"It's cool, Mr. Schue," Brittany countered. "My parents do it every Halloween and it doesn't hurt, you wear like a body harness or something so it just looks like you're dead. I don't really want to hang someone. That would suck."

A few people chuckled. Santana's heart seemed to bloom with love for Brittany. She felt proud Brittany was taking charge and letting her creativity show. She knew Brittany didn't get enough credit for being anything other than a dancer.

"And the last part," Tina said drawing a note on the board. "Is the slab."

The room became silent, attention on Tina, for just a beat before she continued. "We want to have someone dressed as Ghostface, you know, from _Scream_ cutting up someone on a table. Big finale."

"Add in some creepy music, lights and decorations and I think you got yourself a pretty good haunted house," Brittany finished quickly. "I've been to like, a million, so I know this to be a fact."

People were muttering their approval.

"So how will this work?" It was Puck who asked. "Do we all have to do it? What if I want to go and like, see all the other scary stuff going on?"

"It works out better than we had hoped. The choir room has two doors. So people give their ticket at the first door where we hope Mr. Schue, you'll take tickets," Tina looked up at him, waiting for confirmation.

"Of course," he said, smiling. "Ms. Pillsbury agreed to help too."

"Awesome," Brittany smiled at him. She made a note on her notebook paper.

"Everyone has a part," Tina continued smiling at the room. "Brittany and I figured it out. We all have a part and we switch out those parts every few shows so that everyone gets free time at the festival."

"I have to say guys," Mr. Schue said smiling at the two girls. "I'm impressed. You really have this down. I picked two good managers, it seems."

"It would seem so, yes," Brittany said beaming at Tina.

"Who gets what part?" It was Rachel. "There are three positions and twelve of us."

"Oh, right," It was Brittany. "I already cast the parts."

There was a murmur through the group, like Brittany had dropped a pebble into still water. Santana rolled her eyes, it was just a haunted house. Santana knew how her peers were, how they craved the spotlight and would treat this like any solo Mr. Schue gave away. She wasn't going to let anyone mess with Brittany's hard work.

Santana had been watching her for most of the class, keeping to herself. She felt off from her conversation with Brittany in the hall. Sitting and just existing in the comfort of the choir room had been a nice relief. She felt as if she was watching from outside of a window, Brittany wasn't there to be her human anchor to the group. She hadn't participated in the brainstorming but had enjoyed listening and making sure no one stepped on Brittany's toes.

"Well I think whatever parts you've cast us in will be great," Santana said loudly so all eyes turned to her. "You've already done pretty much all the work and the plan is great."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, Brittany, Tina, this is really good work."

Santana smirked. Finn would step up and be a leader if he was just pushed the right way.

"Awesome," Brittany said quietly.

"We agreed that Brittany would run the body parts table first and she would switch out with Artie," Tina began looking at her notebook closely.

"I'm down with that," Artie said. "It'll be easier for me since I'm already, you know, sitting." Brittany smiled at him and he smiled back.

Santana resisted the urge to slap him.

"Awesome," Brittany said again. "Tina will be the first one hanging with Mike Chang sobbing hysterically at her feet, possibly wanting to kill himself." The way she said it so nonchalantly made everyone cringe. Mike looked uncomfortable but Tina smiled at him as Brittany plowed on. "Quinn and Puck take their place later."

"I have to hang form the ceiling while Puck tries to act sad beneath me?" She rolled her eyes.

"I'm down, babe," Puck said shrugging. "As long as you wear a nice skirt so I've got a good view." He winked at her and she crossed her arms over he chest, turning away.

Any other day Santana would have been on board with making Quinn feel uncomfortable, today was Brittanny's day, though. "Come on, Q.," Santana spoke up suddenly. "Everyone's involved."

"You're just saying that because you don't have to do anything embarrassing." Quinn crossed her arms and huffed. "Fine."

"Thank you," Brittany mouthed to Quinn. Quinn smiled slightly.

"Right, so, the slab," began Tina. "We want Finn to be Ghostface first."

"I love this idea," he said earnestly. "I love _Scream_."

"But we want you to be torturing Santana," Brittany cut in quickly.

"What?" Three voices had said it. Rachel looked outraged, Finn looked confused and Santana just hadn't expected to be involved at all.

"We want Santana on the slab because we want you to be the guide through the haunted house, Rachel," Brittany said gently. She exchanged a look with Tina. Santana's smile curled up her face slowly, they had foreseen Rachel's reaction to not being with Finn. "We don't want a clog to form or something, so you lead people through and explain what's happening. We're writing a script, trying to like, tie it all in. Make it like, real. You'll have the most lines."

"Oh," Rachel said, clearly shocked. "That would be..." she stopped. "That's so nice of you."

"What about me?" It was Mercedes who spoke up, her eyebrow cocked.

"And us?" Kurt spoke motioning to Blaine.

"Well you two," Tina said smiling at them will be taking Finn and Santana's place on the slab and as the second Ghostface."

Blaine smiled broadly and Kurt looked skeptical. "As long as I don't get fake blood on my clothes, I'll be okay."

"This is going to be great," Blaine said to the girls. "I'm going to have so much fun killing you." He laughed and Kurt shoved him, playfully. Santana could see the smile tugging at his mouth, though.

"And me?" It was Mercedes again.

"Well, duh," said Brittany, pulling all eyes back on her. "Haven't you figured it out? We've got to have both our stars shine. You're the other tour guide."

The smile on Mercedes face made Santana grin. Everyone had a part and everyone was happy.

The world felt good again. Santana felt at home.

Talking about the different parts of the haunted house had begun immediately, Brittany and Tina were questioned thoroughly and looked more than happy and prepared to answer. Santana's heart swelled with pride and love and all of those gooey emotions that made her cringe when she saw them on anyone else.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

The world around her seemed to disappear and her ears began to ring slightly.

She slowly pulled the phone out and looked at the screen.

Unknown caller.

Horror filled her entire being. It seeped into every nook and cranny and made her feel cold and exposed. No one was paying attention to her. She answered her phone, turning her body away from the group that was growing louder with excitement.

"I know you were in my house," she said through her clenched jaw.

The person on the other end laughed and Santana felt the blood drain from her face.

"Did you also know I'm in your school? Blood and Massacre theme. My favorite." The line clicked off.

Santana's heart was racing a mile a minute and she felt dizzy as if she hadn't eaten anything all day but had run a mile. She turned around and looked outside into the hall. There were people scattered already, even though the bell hadn't sounded their dismissal.

Football players, A/V geeks, a stray Cheerio, random students who didn't have a discerning feature for Santana to place on the social hierarchy, one teacher.

They all had cell phones in their hands.

_Fuck._


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **Thank you for all of the reviews. I mean, really! I'm glad you all are enjoying reading this because I'm having a blast writing, especially since we're getting into the plot more now and we're over halfway through! So, because you guys are awesome, here's a super long chapter for you. Seriously, 18 pages, almost 8,000 words. Enjoy.

Also, reading Ohio stalking laws... not that fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

He wasn't going to get to her.

She repeated it over and over in her head until it became stuck, like an annoying song you picked up from the radio and couldn't get rid of. That was good, though. Maybe if it was stuck, she would believe it.

Because he wasn't going to get to her.

Santana sighed and repressed the shiver that was threatening to make it's way up her spine. Her skin felt like it was crawling with small bugs, goosebumps erupted. She couldn't tell if it was because of the phone calls, the dead animals that were still showing up or what she was about to do.

Probably all three.

She turned a corner and there she was. Her best friend. The tall, blonde, legs that went on for miles, Brittany. Santana felt her heart flutter and couldn't help the half smile that crawled onto her face. They had argued but Santana was sorry, she knew Brittany had been right and now all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.

She approached slowly, surprised to feel her legs becoming jelly beneath her. Her stomach flip-flopped. She stopped by the locker.

"Hey." Her voice was soft, scratchy, gentle.

Brittany looked up and her face flickered to a smile, she extinguished it quickly, though, as if it had appeared against her will.

Santana felt like her chances increased tenfold.

"Hey," Brittany replied shutting the locker door.

An awkward silence passed between them. Santana eyed the people around her. None of them were watching. Good.

"So," she began.

"Santana," Brittany cut her off.

Santana stopped and felt her heart freeze. She had no idea what Brittany was going to say but she was sure it was going to be about them. About how she still needed time.

"I know we're fighting but I miss you." Blue eyes found deep brown. Brittany held the gaze and could read the emotion like an open book. Brittany always laid herself open for Santana to see into. It was part of her allure, part of her charm, part of her beauty.

"I miss you, too." The words left Santana's mouth before she could stop herself. "That's what I wanted to talk about, actually." She bit her lip and glanced down for a second before looking back to Brittany. "I'm sorry. You were right, I was just..." Stupid, scared, nervous, all of the above.

"It's okay," Brittany said in that Brittany tone that sounded like silk against Santana's skin.

"It's not, I've gotta stop being so... stuck in my head. I know that, now," Santana said glancing down again. They were big words for her.

Brittany remained silent, listening.

"I know that this isn't just about me." She glanced around the hallway and lowered her voice. "I love you, Brittany. I don't want us to fight, especially when you're so good to me."

Santana watched Brittany's eyes scour her face, looking for something, searching. Santana felt hear ears go warm and felt sweat tickling at her scalp, like she was on stage or had just done something embarrassing. She waited for Brittany to respond.

"I love you," she said after a moment. It was so earnest that just for a second Santana felt like she had lost all of her breath. Like it had just disappeared, only for a second.

She smiled and offered a pinkie to the blonde, who took it, happily.

As they walked to class, students moving out of their way and watching, Santana couldn't help but feel guilt slowly spreading in the back of her mind. Did she mean her words? Those big words that she knew would help bring Brittany back to her? Or was she just taking advantage of Brittany's excitement over the Halloween project to get her back? Had she really become that desperate to hang on to her?

Santana locked the thoughts away for another day.

* * *

><p>There hadn't been much music coming from the choir room, all time was spent towards the haunted house fall festival. Brittany and Tina had rallied the class together and nothing was going to get in their way from making the New Directions Blood and Masssacre Extravaganza not be the best attraction in the school. The band didn't even show up anymore and Brad, well, no one knew what he was up to when he wasn't at the piano. It was almost as if everyone forgot he wasn't actually furniture.<p>

Santana was sitting next to Brittany. They were separated, to her dismay. Brittany was important, delegating jobs and scribbling notes with Tina, their heads so close together they were almost touching. She watched her work quietly, smiling every time someone came to Brittany with a question, took her guidance seriously, and began to actually execute orders.

"We're definitely going to want some like, cobwebs here," Brittany said indicating a corner of the choir room with her pen.

Rachel, Mercedes, Quinn and Tina stood around her, nodding and following her pen with her eyes. She turned her body towards one of the choir room doors.

"And there, on the doors, sort of like blocking it but not really. We obviously don't want people getting trapped in here, that would be way scary." She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes as if it was something everyone just knew already.

She scribbled something on her notepad.

"Don't waste the fake blood," Rachel said storming away from the group to reprimand Puck.

Santana watched Quinn roll her eyes and Mercedes laugh. She looked to Brittany who was writing notes and whispering something to Tina. When she looked up she saw Santana watching her and smiled. It was a sweet smile, a smile Santana recognized as the nervous kind you got in middle school when your crush was looking at you. She felt her lips twitch.

The group dispersed. Brittany was left alone by the piano. She was staring at her notebook and looking up at random places in the room, sometimes making notes, sometimes scribbling something out.

Santana stood and moved towards her. She leaned against the piano and tried to look at Brittany's notebook. She was surprised when the notebook snapped shut and Brittany put it behind her back.

"These are secret plans."

"Brittany, I'm part of the show," Santana said, chuckling slightly.

Brittany was silent, as if debating if what Santana said was a good enough reason to let her see into the notebook. "Sorry San," she finally said, shaking her head. "Only Tina and I can look at these."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," Brittany said leaning against the piano. "Keeps people from getting a peek and wanting to change things."

"You mean like Berry?"

Brittany made a face. "Well..."

"Exactly," Santana said smiling.

Brittany smiled back.

Silence.

"So..."

"Yeah?" Brittany said jumping on the conversation.

"I was wondering..." Santana felt the nerves building in her stomach, her palms were sweating. She felt like a stupid boy.

"Yeah?" Brittany drew out the word, her lips pulling up at the corners.

It was odd, Santana realized, that she could still be this nervous around Brittany when they were already so intimate with each other. When they had shared so much together. It was still a first, though.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Brittany's grin became a smile. "Nothing, why?"

"I was wondering," Santana began, she shifted her weight to her other foot as she tried to keep her eyes on Brittany. "If you'd wanna maybe... I don't know, go get dinner, see a movie?"

Brittany lowered her voice and leaned towards Santana. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Santana smiled. "I think I am."

Brittany was silent for a fraction of a second. Her grin was so broad Santana couldn't help but smile along with her. "That would be awesome."

"Good, I'll pick you up at six."

"Good," Brittany said, nodding her head.

Santana tilted her head and nodded. She turned away and walked back to her chair, her legs felt like jelly beneath her again.

She couldn't erase her smile, or the memory of Brittany's smile, off of her face for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Santana had rushed home after school. She went straight to her room and shut the door and then spent twenty-three and a half minutes staring at her closet before realizing that she had nothing to wear.<p>

"Ugh," she cried throwing another outfit down onto her bed. She sat down beside the discarded clothing, legs crossed, head held on her hand and stared at the open closet.

"What. To. Wear." She paused after each word and hummed to herself, trying to decide.

She hadn't realized just how hard of a decision this was going to be. "I can't be slutty," she whispered to the room. It was what she had done in the past when going on a date. She wrinkled her nose. Those had been dates with boys.

This date was different. It was with Brittany, her first real date with Brittany where she had asked her out all by herself. She grinned at the memory of the look on Brittany's face. Like it had been Christmas and Santana was the present.

Her face darkened. People couldn't know she was on a date. People couldn't look at the two of them together and know they were a couple. They couldn't. But she wanted it. She wanted it so bad it felt like she had this itch she couldn't scratch.

Santana reached for her phone and scrolled through her recent calls, finding the number she wanted to dial. Brittany. Brittany was always the first person she wanted to call whenever something happened. Even after their fight she had had to resist the urge to call Brittany. She stared at the screen then switched to her contacts. She found him under the 'K's and pressed his name before she was even aware of what she was doing.

It rang three times before he answered.

"Hello?" He drew the word out, Santana could hear skepticism leaking through the phone.

"Hey," she said, unsure of herself.

"Um...Santana?"

"Yeah, it's me."

There was a silence on the other end.

"You do know this is Kurt, right? Kurt Hummel?"

Santana scowled at the wall. "I know who you are, I just need your help with something."

"Is this about the World Cultures project because that isn't due till like...the end of the year."

Santana sighed. She was already regretting her decision to call. "Look, no, I need your help with... picking out an outfit, okay?"

She could hear his eyebrows raising on the other end. "Oh really?" His voice had brightened. Santana couldn't help but grin. Clothing was like catnip to Kurt. She shook her head slightly, erasing the smile that she hadn't given permission to appear.

"Yeah, okay, I have a... thing tonight and it's important."

"A date?"

She inhaled lightly then exhaled deeply. "You wanna help or not?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Fine."

* * *

><p>"My god, I think you have the best wardrobe in all of Lima," Kurt said under his breath leafing through her pieces of clothing like they were pages in a book. "It's so sad you wear that Cheerios uniform all the time."<p>

Santana grimaced. She liked the uniform because it gave her power but it was still a bitch to wear all the time. "Yeah, well." She shrugged, realizing she had nothing to add.

"So," he said, turning away from the closet, reluctantly, and facing Santana. "Tell me about your date?"

He walked around her room, looking at everything, as if he was trying to find the Santana in it.

"Listen, Gossip Girl, I called you to help me pick an outfit out for tonight, not so I could spill my guts while we give each other manicures," Santana snapped at him.

He rolled his eyes. He had one arm crossed on his chest, the other resting on the elbow of the crossed arm. He sighed. "I can't help you pick an outfit if I don't know what the mood is." He stood, hip cocked, staring at her.

"Fine," she said, sitting on her bed and crossing her legs then her arms.

They stared at each other.

"I could be with Blaine, you know, my boyfriend, instead of here," Kurt said after a moment.

Why had she called him? She knew why but could not bring herself to admit it out loud. Outside of Brittany, she had no one. Quinn? Are you kidding me? Puck? It was too awkward with Puck. If she reached out to Puck he would make innuendos. Kurt understood what she was going through, even if she didn't understand it herself. "It's complicated, okay?"

Kurt looked around and pulled the rolling chair away from the desk and over to the bed. He sat down. "Complicated how?"

Santana felt the heat rushing to her face and wanted to slap herself. She looked down and began to play with a loose piece of fabric on her blanket.

"Oh," said Kurt, knowingly, sitting back in his chair.

"What?" Santana jerked her head up. "What?"

"You really like this one," Kurt said smirking. "My, my, my, someone has finally tamed the wild Spanish horse that is Santana Lopez."

"First off," Santana said, hand raised to stop him from continuing.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Would you calm down? I know, you'll go all 'Lima Heights' on me, but I gotta say, that insult is getting less intimidating the more you use it. I'm happy for you Santana." He changed his tone, it was serious, earnest. "Really, I am. Everyone needs someone. Trust me, I know."

Santana searched his face for any glimmer of a joke or mockery. She couldn't find any. She remembered all Kurt had been through, how he had found Blaine. How he still had to deal with people thinking less of him day after day just because of who he loved.

She felt her heart tighten. Why had she asked Brittany on a date? It was stupid and crazy. People were going to see them and know. They were going to see that Santana was in love with her and they were going to hate her. She inhaled sharply.

"What?" Kurt's eyes were wide, he looked scared, unsure.

"I can't do this," she said quietly. Santana kept her eyes down.

"Do what, Santana?"

This was it. She wanted to spill everything to Kurt. It was so hard, bottling it up, it was so hard keeping Brittany to herself. Who else did she talk to? Nobody.

_Look where that got you_. _Fighting with Brittany, the only person who can stand you._

She exhaled.

"My date," she felt her nerves working over time. Her hands shook slightly and her palms began to sweat. Santana stopped, feeling as if she was physically unable to continue.

"Your date...?" Kurt supplied nodding his head slightly.

She stood up from the bed and paced back and forth. "This is hard for me to talk about, okay?"

Kurt swiveled the chair around to face her. She could feel his eyes on her while she paced. "I know," Kurt said softly.

Santana stopped. "What do you know?"

Kurt was silent. Santana met his eyes. His face was firm but when he spoke his voice was gentle. "Your date is with Brittany, isn't it, Santana?"

She froze. He knew. How? How did he know? Had Brittany told him? Who had told him? The questions raced through her head faster than she thought thoughts could race.

"Santana," he began, seeing how her body tensed. "It's okay. Most of us kinda figured since you know, I mean... It's just obvious that you love her. You're not that good at hiding it, especially anymore."

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. She hated the fact that they knew, that they assumed. Why would they assume that about her? She still looked like a girl and dressed like a girl, why would they assume she was a lesbian? Why? She felt nauseous and oddly violated.

She began pacing.

"Look,"she said to Kurt. She stopped at her open window, letting the breeze hit her face, cooling her. "I'm just not ready for people to just know this about me, okay? I'm still trying to... My parents don't even..."

"You're okay," Kurt said gently, still sitting. "I've had a lot of experience with those who refuse to accept that they're gay."

Santana flinched at the word. She remained standing still, staring outside, unable to move. She hated herself for not being able to handle the situation, for appearing so weak, incompetent. Kurt wouldn't tell, he had proven that in the past.

Then why was it so hard?

"What about this?"

Santana whipped around to look at Kurt. "It's nice but not so nice, you know? Perfect for the evening. Simple, gorgeous."

Santana smiled at the shirt in his hands. It held a lot of memories.

* * *

><p>Kurt left Santana alone to finish her make up at a quarter after five. She was ready to go by thirty-five after. She left at roughly forty minutes after, watching the clock the entire time. She was nervous, beyond nervous. She parked outside of Brittany's house with five minutes to spare. She sat in the car and tried to pull herself together.<p>

Then it hit her. Was she supposed to go to the door? Any other time she would text Brittany or call her but this was a date. What did guys do for her? Was she the guy? Was that how it worked?

"Fuck," she mumbled, pulling her phone from her pocket. She dropped the phone to the floor and bent doubled to feel for it. Her hand grasped it and she sat up.

A figure caught her peripherals and she jumped, dropping the phone again.

It was Brittany.

Her pounding heart calmed, only to do a jump again. Brittany was watching her, chuckling. Santana rolled down the window.

"Jesus, Britt," she said while exhaling a breath. "You scared me."

"Sorry," she replied, smiling.

A silence passed between them. "Oh, do I...?" Began Santana unbuckling herself, unsure of what to do.

Brittany shook her head and walked around the car. She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. She buckled herself in and offered Santana a smile. "Where we goin'?"

Santana smiled to herself. "You'll see."

* * *

><p>"Koto?"<p>

"Koto."

"What does that mean?" Brittany was leaning her head against the glass of the car door to look up at the glowing neon sign.

"I think it's an instrument or something," Santana replied parking the car and unbuckling herself. They both got out, Santana watched Brittany stretch slightly, her back arching under her clothes. Santana could almost feel her hands trailing down the muscles of her back...

Focus.

She walked around the car and joined Brittany. "It's new."

"Yeah, isn't this like, a sushi bar?" Brittany's nose wrinkled.

Santana smiled. "It has a sushi bar, but it also has a hibachi."

"Oh," said Brittany. Her eyebrows came together as if she was debating what that could mean.

"You'll like it, I promise."

"Of course I will," Brittany replied turning to look at Santana, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if just being with her would be enough.

She looked Brittany up and down. It was the first time she had taken in what she was wearing, a loose fitting dark shirt and jeans. Simple, elegant, almost exactly what Santana was wearing, except her shirt happened to be white, happened to be the shirt she wore when she sang Brittany _Songbird_. Brittany's hair was down, a nice change from the high Cheerios ponytail. Her make up was light, just enough to highlight but not be overpowering. She was gorgeous, she was beautiful, she was perfect and Santana couldn't help but drink her image in, greedily.

"What?" Brittany asked cocking her head.

"Come on," Santana said linking her pinkie with Brittany's and leading her into the building.

It was very dimly lit inside and full of noise, even if it was only six on a Wednesday night. The hostess who greeted them was all smiles and when she asked if they wanted a table or the grill Santana immediately replied that they wanted to eat at the grill.

As the hostess led them away, Brittany stopped to look over bamboo railing that surrounded the Koi pond. "Oh my gosh, San!" She cried excitedly. "Look at these fish! They look like calico's."

"I know, Britt," said Santana smiling. "We'll see them when we leave." Santana glanced at the hostess who had stopped, an annoyed smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, sorry," said Brittany looking up at Santana then the hostess.

"You're fine," the hostess replied, softening. Santana knew it was Brittany. She had a weird way of softening people. Always had.

They were led through what felt like a maze. They were surrounded by bamboo-like walls that were really just dividing the hibachi area from the sit-down aspect of the restaurant and the sushi bar. They stepped up and through an archway. The atmosphere of the place was excitement. Santana had expected the décor to be a parody of the Japanese aspect of the food. It was the opposite though, Santana felt like she was getting her money's worth with the muted colors and the spotless floors.

The hibachi area was alive with movement, talk, and people. Brittany watched, amazed as the chefs cooked on grills in front of customers. Her eyes darted around, taking in everything, then they met Santana's.

"Here we go," the hostess said. The grill had ten chairs wrapped around it, two on the sides and six directly in front. Brittany and Santana were seated on the side seats, they were the only ones at the table. The hostess handed them each a heavy menu and walked away.

"What is this?" Brittany opened the menu and began reading. "Is this made of wood?" She held the menu closed in her hands, running her fingertips over the surface.

"Isn't it awesome?"

"Yeah," Brittany said slowly. She opened the menu. "So, they like..." Brittany looked up from her menu and met Santana's eyes. There was a loud whooping then a searing noise, like bacon in a frying pan, then applause. Brittany turned around in her chair to watch the other grills. "Was that fire?"

Santana laughed. "Yeah."

"This is," Brittany said looking around at the black stenciled Japanese characters on the wall and the bamboo dividers and the movement of people. "This is wonderful."

Santana's heart soared.

"The show hasn't even started yet."

"Doesn't matter."

* * *

><p>Santana was surprised when the rest of the vacant seats at their grill filled up. There were two other couples and then a family of four. Brittany ended up sitting by the youngest child of the family and they became fast friends, looking over the menu together and deciding what they wanted. Neither had been to a hibachi before.<p>

The couples chatted with the parents and Brittany talked with the kids, turning back to Santana and smiling or starting a conversation. Santana was fine with watching. Seeing Brittany so lit up with excitement made her feel content, made her feel done or full or... complete.

When a waitress came to take their order Brittany leaned close to Santana. "This is like, expensive, San."

Santana looked at Brittany's face closely, eyes scanning every inch, etching her deep into her mind. "Don't worry about it, I asked you here, remember?"

Brittany looked guiltily at the menu.

When the hostess came around Santana ordered shrimp, Brittany ordered chicken. Santana would have questioned it, had she not known that Brittany loved chicken and would probably regret getting shrimp when she saw it raw on the chefs cart.

When the chef did roll out people at the table were already in such a high spirit that they applauded, Brittany leading. He introduced himself as Ari and promised everyone was going to have fun. Brittany smiled and looked to Santana.

He started his routine. Brittany jumped when he caught the grill on fire and laughed with the little boy beside her. When he threw an egg in the air and caught it in his hat without breaking it, she clapped enthusiastically. When he shaped the rice into a heart and used his spatula to make it look like part of it was beating she smiled wide and looked at Santana with so much joy in her eyes that Santana's own heart began to pump along with the rice heart.

"Who wants to catch?" Ari asked the table. He put a small piece of the cooked egg on the edge of a spatula and held it up to everyone in turn.

"I'll go," Brittany said, raising her hand as if she was in class.

He smiled and flipped the egg up, Brittany leaned back, mouth open and caught it. The table applauded and Brittany's hands went into the air. "Victory," she cried.

Ari tried tossing a piece of food to Santana, who refused to participate even after Brittany begged her. It landed in her hair. She would have glared a hole into Ari's face had Brittany's hands not immediately been on her, pulling the rice from the strands of hair and lingering longer than they should have. Santana closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent that was Brittany.

She remembered they weren't alone and opened her eyes.

No one was watching.

She relaxed.

Ari continued his show. He cooked the food, talked, performed a few more tricks and dolled out sauce in little containers to each of them.

Santana felt Brittany's hand find hers under the table and she let their fingers lace together. She glanced up a Brittany who was watching the grill, talking with the people at the table and making the evening more fun than it would have been on any other night.

* * *

><p>They had eaten their fill and then some. Chicken, shrimp, noodles, rice, vegetables. It was a lot and they both had leftovers that Brittany refused to not take with them, especially if Santana had paid so much for their meal. Santana unlocked her car and Brittany put the boxes in the passenger seat before shutting the door.<p>

They walked.

Koto was a new restaurant in the much anticipated 'Lima Centre.' It was a new aspect of Lima that most of the teenagers had been looking forward to. There was a new movie theater, new clothing stores, restaurants, entertainment stores and a Meijer, all in one compact area. The complex had taken a few years to complete but had well been worth the wait.

They passed a Rue21, Santana scowled at the group of boys hanging outside the entrance.

"I figured we could see a movie, if you wanted?" She looked at Brittany.

"Sure, what's playing?"

Santana shrugged. "Not sure, but it's only, wow, is it almost eight?" She checked her phone, 7:47. No missed calls. She sighed, relieved.

They walked past a few more stores and crossed the road in front of the movie theater. The theater was the heart of the Lima Centre and everything was in walking distance.

Santana looked at the movie posters, none of the movies looked particularly appealing. She looked around. There were a lot of people milling about. No one was paying attention. First step. She reached out and laced her hand with Brittany's again. Her eyes darted to the blonde's face, who was looking at a movie poster, reading the list of actors. She acted as if nothing had happened, but Santana could see a smile on her lips.

"This one," Brittany said suddenly.

"Which one?"

"Emma Stone is in it, it starts in ten minutes. Please, San!" She turned her blue eyes onto Santana who melted immediately.

"Sure, I love her voice," Santana replied.

"Right?" Brittany said excitedly.

Santana bought the tickets even though Brittany offered to pay and they walked into the theater hand in hand.

As soon as they entered, Santana stopped, her heart stopped, her hand fell from Brittany's.

"What is it, San?" Brittany asked looking up.

Standing by the bathrooms, arguing, were two people Santana had not expected to see at the movies, especially not together. Jenna, the up and coming freshman Cheerio, still in uniform and none other than Azimio in his letter man jacket. Jenna stamped her foot slightly and Azimio crossed his arms. He glanced up and saw Santana's eyes on him. He looked to Brittany, then back to Santana, she could feel his eyes trailing up and down her body, then he smiled. Santana watched as Jenna turned around, saw them, and narrowed her eyes. She stormed out of the theater. Azimio followed closely behind her.

Santana felt frozen. She couldn't move or breath or think. What had they seen? Had they seen them holding hands? Something else was bothering her, making her skin crawl, making her feel like she had felt that same look on her before, somewhere else full of bad memories...

"San?" Brittany's voice pulled her out of her own mind. Santana looked at her, eyes wide.

Brittany linked her pinkie in Santana's and pulled her into a little alcove full of arcade games, it was empty. "What's wrong?"

"Did you see?"

"Jenna and Azimio? It's gross, right? He's like, way older than her."

"No, they..." Santana stopped. She knew if she continued Brittany would realize that Santana was afraid they had seen their hands laced together, had seen everything and knew. She stood, silent.

Brittany glanced around and stepped closer to Santana. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?"

Santana felt her eyes locking with Brittany's. She couldn't pull away. Her heart fluttered.

Brittany leaned into Santana's neck and inhaled. "You smell sweet." Santana felt Brittany's nose brush against her neck and her body shivered. She felt hot and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to push herself flush against Brittany, just to feel her.

"Don't worry, San," Brittany said pulling away.

Santana looked at her, head slightly tilted. Had Brittany understood her apprehension? Why wasn't she more upset?

"I know this is hard for you," Brittany supplied after a moment. She leaned forward and kissed Santana, chastely on the lips, lingering for half a beat and then pulling her out of the alcove and towards the right theater.

* * *

><p>Santana couldn't concentrate on the movie. Her thoughts were still back in the alcove, the smell of Brittany was still lingering on her and she felt far too warm for the cool October weather.<p>

When the previews started and the theater darkened, Santana felt Brittany's hand on hers again, squeezing gently. The movie started and Santana was surprised that she actually enjoyed watching. Emma Stone was definitely the selling point but Steve Carrell promised comedy and Santana could definitely use the relief.

Brittany repositioned herself against Santana, lifting the arm rest between them up and back out of the way. Brittany laid her head on Santana's shoulder and curled into her side. There weren't many people in the theater and they were sitting near the back, no one would notice them.

_You're fine. _Santana told herself.

Brittany's hand played at her jeans, tracing meaningless patterns into the fabric. It was comforting, something Brittany had done a million times in the past. Santana felt relaxed. Until she felt Brittany's hand moving up her thigh.

Her breath hitched slightly in her throat and Brittany stopped.

Santana felt heat rising to her face. They were in public.

Brittany's hand moved up her thigh and Santana hated herself, and Kurt, for deciding on jeans as the appropriate thing to wear.

Santana could feel Brittany's breathing had changed slightly too, it was more controlled. Her hand slid into her inner thigh and Santana closed her eyes and leaned her head back, movie forgotten. She unconsciously spread her legs.

"Brittany," she whispered. "Public."

Brittany held her hand in place on Santana's inner thigh, as if debating on what she should do next. Santana felt like she was in hell. Her heart was pounding, her breathing was erratic, she felt lost in the smell of Brittany. She became very suddenly aware how long it had been since they had done anything. Too long. Far too long.

Brittany's hand slid up until it was cupped against Santana who sighed heavily, repressing the grunt that wanted to escape from her. She felt hot and sticky under Brittany's touch and her jeans were becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"Wanna go?" It was Brittany, warm against her ear. Santana nodded.

They stood up and left the movie theater, Santana trying to remain standing on legs that felt like dead weight.

* * *

><p>The drive back to Santana's was the worst part of the evening. Santana wanted Brittany, she wanted Brittany so badly it felt like an actual physical pain to not be with her. She was in need and she didn't care.<p>

What was worse? She could see the same desire on Brittany's face. The unbridled want, the desperate need. It made Santana want to push the gas pedal to the floor. They needed to be home. Santana pulled into the driveway and parked the car.

Brittany's lips were on hers before she could unbuckle. Her lips were hot, messy, as if she had been drinking but Santana knew it was the feeling building in both of them, the feeling that they had both been ignoring. The last time they had been together was after Lord Tubbington's death. Almost two weeks ago.

Had it only been that long?

Wasn't that long enough?

Brittany broke the kiss. "Your dad?"

"Working all night."

They got out of the car and Santana felt Brittany close to her, hands laced together.

Santana opened the front door, pulled Brittany inside and then slammed it shut, pushing Brittany against it and crashing their lips together once more. She felt Brittany's hands on her body and sighed. She felt like she was getting a hit from a drug, relief spread through her. She needed Brittany, she needed to be close to her again, needed to feel her.

A noise echoed through the house, a thump.

Santana froze and Brittany stopped placing gentle kisses on her neck.

"Did you hear that?" Santana whispered.

"Yeah," Brittany whispered into Santana's neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

They pulled away from each other, reluctantly. Santana stood perfectly still, hand clasped tightly around Brittany's and listened.

_Thump._

She jumped and felt Brittany jump beside her. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt lightheaded. Had the door been unlocked when they got here? She tried to remember, tried to think about it... had she needed to use her key to unlock it? Had she locked it earlier?

"Brittany," Santana whispered. "I think someone is in the house."

She felt Brittany's eyes turn to look at her, Santana kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. "Santana, let's call the police." Brittany whispered beside her.

Santana said nothing. She stepped away from Brittany and heard the girl whimpering. In the umbrella stand by the door she found her great-grandfathers cane and pulled it free. She grasped it firmly in her left hand and grabbed Brittany's hand with her right.

"Come on," Santana said quietly, pulling her up the stairs.

"San," Brittany whined beside her. She followed anyway, moving as quietly as possible.

Santana felt her heartbeat pounding in her head. There couldn't be someone in her house. There couldn't be. She had used her key. She had locked it earlier. She was making the noise up. They took each step slowly and when Santana reached the top step she leaned around the wall and looked down the hall.

Empty.

Santana stepped up the last step and looked back at Brittany, whose eyes were wide and mouth clenched tightly shut. She squeezed her hand reassuringly.

A shadow moved along the wall and Santana jumped, repressing a scream. No one was in the hall, it had come from a bedroom. A light flickered from the room down the hall, Santana's room. Her stomach lurched and her feet began moving forward. The idea of someone in her room made her feel sick and angry. Like she was being violated, like someone was intruding beyond the normal standards of intrusion.

As she moved forward she felt Brittany's grip on her hand become vice-like. She wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but she was too nervous to speak. The shadow along the wall was moving slightly, but she couldn't tell who or what it was, the light wasn't strong enough in the dark house. Her door ajar. She pushed it open all the way and look into the room.

A figure, all in black was standing by her dresser, her top drawer open. Her underwear drawer. She heard the figure grunt, male grunting.

"...the fuck?" Santana yelled before she could stop herself.

The figure turned around, he had a ski mask on. It was too dark for Santana to see him clearly but his eyes landed on her and she felt cold and a familiar tingling on her scalp, as if they had been on her before. She heard a noise, like a zipper.

"Get the fuck out of my house," she bellowed, cane raised. Adrenaline was pumping through her, she felt Brittany pressed into her back, clutching her tightly, face buried in the back of her neck.

The figure jumped at her loud voice and ran. Santana thought he was running for her, but he changed directions and dove out the window of the second story house. Santana broke away from Brittany and raced to the window. She watched him run, limping slightly. He crossed the street and got into a car parked in front of a house up the road. It was too dark for Santana to see anything about the car, not that she could tell you a make or model in broad daylight...

"Santana," Brittany said quietly from the doorway.

Santana turned, Brittany looked pale, she was shaking and her legs looked like they were going to give out any second. She crossed the room quickly and pulled Brittany close, she felt cold. "It's okay, Britt," Santana soothed.

Brittany buried her face into her neck and let Santana hold her, talk to her. Santana stood firm, her hand running up and down Brittany's back, rubbing gently. Santana felt like she could have dove out the window and chased down the figure. She felt anger, not fear. He had been in _her_ room, _her _territory.

Brittany pulled away and Santana felt cold without her tucked into her. She watched as Brittany pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the police," Brittany said loudly.

"He's gone," Santana said plainly.

"Santana," Brittany almost yelled, she jerked her head up. "Someone was in your house. Someone has been stalking you, someone tackled you at a party and now they were in your house. Again."

She enunciated each word clearly and talked slowly. Santana felt the adrenaline drain away. She needed to sit down. She had to sit down.

* * *

><p>As luck would have it, Officer Simpson and his disbelieving partner arrived ten minutes later. Santana was sitting on the couch, shaking like she had the first time. Brittany was sitting close beside her, an arm wrapped around her, whispering soothing things in her ear.<p>

When Santana's dad arrived Santana noted there was an odd mix of anger and fear on his face. Santana stared at the carpet her dad talk to the police, they asked Brittany questions, they asked Santana question as well but she had trouble finding words or focusing on anything that wasn't the carpet in the living room or Brittany's soothing hand on her back.

"Were the doors locked?"

Santana flinched. She knew the question was directed at her. "I can't remember," she answered truthfully.

"Santana," her dad began. "Someone broke in to hurt you and now someone was in our house, you have to _lock the doors."_ His voice was almost a yell and Santana flinched and turned into Brittany.

The room became silent, heavy.

"Someone is stalking my daughter," Dr. Lopez said. "Or our family, this can't be a coincidence."

"Tell them," Brittany whispered.

"Tell them what?" Her dad had picked up on Brittany's voice.

"Brittany," Santana said, pulling away slightly. She felt betrayed.

"Tell me what, Santana?" Her dad said again, annoyed.

"Santana you don't have to do everything alone," Brittany said meeting her eyes. Santana saw the concern mixed with blue. Brittany's hand cupped her cheek and Santana closed her eyes against the touch.

Then she remembered who was standing around her. She turned away from Brittany and took her hand in her own. She looked up at her father and couldn't read his expression. He had seen the gesture, they all had, no one acknowledged it.

"I've been getting phone calls..."

"What kind of phone calls?" It was Officer Simpson who spoke.

"It's just this guy who laughs or he just calls. The number is always marked unknown caller," Santana said. The room was silent. All ears were trained on her. "When that guy broke into the house the first time, he had called me right before and said it was perfect that I was alone..."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Dr. Lopez sat down on the coffee table and used a hand to tilt Santana's head up towards him.

"He said it was perfect that you were alone and then someone broke into your house?" Officer Simpson spoke again. He was scribbling on a small notepad he had pulled from his breast pocket.

"Yeah," Santana said quietly, looking away from her father. He looked disappointed, sad and Santana couldn't stand to have him looking at her like that.

"What else?"

All eyes were on her.

She told them everything, the animals, Brittany's cat, the guy at the party. Her dad had jumped off the coffee table, livid. Santana had left out the part about drinking, though she was sure everyone in the room knew they had been drinking. Officer Simpson wrote everything down.

Santana felt drained, tired. She wanted the night to be over. She wanted the caller to leave her alone. She wanted to curl into Brittany and fall asleep.

Eventually the police left, saying they would file a report and to keep the house locked at all times.

"Brittany, would you mind going upstairs and shutting all of the windows and making sure they're all locked?" Dr. Lopez asked after shutting the front door and locking it. "I need to make a few phone calls."

"Yeah," Brittany said nodding her head. Santana had latched onto her and she whimpered audibly when Brittany pulled away. "I'll be right back," she said gently, leaning her forehead against Santana's for a moment. Santana's heart lurched. She didn't want Brittany going upstairs alone, she wanted her to stay on the couch, where they were safe.

She looked up. Her father was watching her, his expression unreadable. He disappeared into the kitchen. Santana heard him checking to make sure the back door and the door to the garage were locked.

Santana sat on the couch, not moving, thinking about how the night had begun, how her date with Brittany had felt like days ago or another lifetime completely. She thought of how she had skipped out on a movie to come home and be with Brittany. If they had only stayed a little longer.

Still, something was bothering her. Why had he run? Why had the stalker jumped out the window? There they were, on a platter, alone, at night. His eyes...had she seen, was he surprised to see them there? As if he was expecting them to not be there. As if he _knew_ they had been at the movies.

Jenna and Azimio had been at the theater. Jenna liked to talk. Azimio...

His eyes on hers at the theater had made her skin crawl. Why?

But... no. It couldn't be, Azimio was a bigger guy.

Hadn't the guy who _tackled_ her been a big guy. Hadn't the guy in her room been a big guy?

No...

"Hey," Brittany said, stepping into the room. Santana jumped, eyes wide. "Hey," Brittany said again, softly, moving across the room and sitting on the couch, pulling Santana close.

"You're shaking, what's wrong?" Brittany asked, voice laced with concern.

"Just," Santana stopped and nestled in close to Brittany. "Just hold me, please."

"Sure, babe," Brittany said softly. They repositioned themselves so that they could lay down. Santana was tucked up against Brittany who had an arm wrapped firmly around her. They were silent and Santana felt her eyes closing, she tried to jerk her body awake. "It's okay, San, go to sleep," Brittany whispered.

Santana let her eyes close and felt safe with Brittany's arm around her and her father in the next room. She didn't care if he saw them.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **Thank you for the reviews, as always, they're wonderful to read. Especially your predictions. I'd like to address that now, don't worry, no spoilers. I have given small clues. Two in the first few chapters. But the first clue doesn't really make much sense, it's more a push of information, instead of a clue, if that makes sense. The second clue isn't a clue either...I guess, just a hint and probably makes more sense if you tie it in with the first clue. I'm trying to slip in more, but I'd rather not have someone guessing and spoiling things, or being obvious. Plus, I see this story as Brittana then a horror story. Not the other way around.

Also, I would like to say that I felt really bad writing one of Santana's little tear down speeches. Damn, she's mean. I tried at least. I hope you like it. This chapter has less suspense, but hey, three more (school) days until Halloween and only...oh my! Four more chapters after this one. Yeah, that means 13 chapters... or so.

Also, I'm pretty sure this is one of my worsts chapters writing wise. For some reason I kept switching tenses and I'm still not that pleased, but I really feel like this is as good as it gets.

Also, angels.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

"Santana."

She felt herself being drug out of the dream world that sleep had offered her. She felt warmth beside her, wrapped around her. That heavy, comfortable warmth that only Brittany could provide for her. She tucked herself deeper into Brittany who just happened to be curled up next to her.

"No, Santana, honey, come on now," the voice repeated. Her father shook her gently.

Santana moaned her disapproval. She had been sleeping_ so_ well. "What?" Her voice was muffled against Brittany, who began to stir.

"There are people coming, let's go upstairs," he said gently.

Santana jerked away, sitting herself up on her hands and pushing Brittany away who whined at the sudden movement.

Everything rushed back.

Her date with Brittany, the guy in her room, the police, Brittany leaning close and breathing in. Her heart fluttered. Her heart stopped. She turned her head to look up at her dad. He was wearing that expression again. The one Santana couldn't read. The one where she he was seeing more than she wanted him to.

"What do you mean?" She asked, voice low. "Why are people coming?" She felt fear rising in her.

"No, it's fine," he said placing a hand on her cheek and the smoothing her hair away from herself. The gesture made Santana feel like a little girl again, like she hadn't felt in years. "I called them. I'm having a security system installed, tonight."

"What time is it?" Santana rubbed her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position. Brittany snuggled close to her, still sleeping, draping an arm across her lap. Santana smiled slightly down at her and had to still her hand in midair from brushing Brittany's face face.

"It's almost two am," Dr. Lopez supplied.

"Security places are..." She yawned. "...open at two am?"

"Let's get you upstairs to bed," Dr. Lopez said gently. He moved away from the couch. "I need to make a phone call." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and walked out of the living room.

Santana waited until he was gone. She rested her hand on Brittany's cheek, stroking under her eye with her thumb. "Britt-Britt," she whispered softly. "Come on, sweetie, let's get up," Santana said taking her hand away from Brittany's face and shaking her gently.

Brittany stirred and sighed. "Nope," she said, turning to lie on her stomach.

Santana exhaled a laugh. "Come on, we're going up to my bed," Santana said softly.

Brittany stretched and rolled onto her back. Santana watched, knowing only Brittany could manage to appear graceful, tangled up in blankets on a couch. Brittany opened her eyes and smiled sweetly. Santana felt her heart flutter. She rolled her eyes at her own reaction.

"What?" Brittany asked, sitting up beside Santana.

"Let's just go upstairs," Santana said crawling over Brittany and stumbling to her feet. She stretched. Everything muscle in her body felt exhausted.

Brittany swung her legs off the couch and rested doubled over, head in her hands. "So tired, San," she said.

"I know, me too," Santana said pulling Brittany to her feet.

Brittany fell against her, completely limp. "Carry me," she whined.

Santana sagged under her weight and laughed. "Come on," she said again. "It's not that far."

Brittany nuzzled her face into Santana's neck and Santana felt something tighten in her lower stomach. Brittany pulled away, standing upright. She grabbed Santana's hand and led her upstairs. Santana felt her heart race when they stopped outside of her bedroom. She wasn't going in there. No one could force her.

Brittany seemed to feel the hesitation. She pulled Santana down the hall further, into the guest bedroom. She threw back the blankets and crawled into bed, looking at Santana, waiting. Santana smiled and crawled in beside her, burying her face into Brittany's neck and feeling safe.

* * *

><p>Brittany was the one to shake her gently awake the next morning. Santana blinked a few times before sitting up in bed, stretching. She felt like she could sleep for hours more, days even. "What time is it?" She yawned.<p>

"It is," Brittany paused, searching the room for a clock. Nothing. "No idea."

"Then why did you wake me?" Santana whined, sinking back into the bed and burying her face in her pillow.

"I feel like school starts soon," Brittany said. She was sitting beside Santana and Santana could feel her eyes on her back.

"Well, find out," Santana said rolling over.

Brittany was silent. "That would require getting out of bed."

Santana laughed. She sighed, deciding this bed was more comfortable than her own. "Fine," she said, throwing the covers off of her body and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I feel awake now, anyway."

Santana left Brittany in bed and softly padded down the stairs. She didn't want to wake her father up so she moved quietly through the house. She refused to go to her room to check her alarm clock, she felt like it was not longer a good place to be. The microwave seemed to be the safest bet.

Santana entered the kitchen and was surprised to see her father sitting on a barstool at the counter, head in his hands, coffee and cell phone sitting in front of him. "Didn't expect you to be up this early," she said pouring herself a mug of coffee. She glanced at the microwave. 5:46.

"Hmm?" Dr. Lopez looked up from his coffee cup and smiled gently at Santana. "You're up early."

"So are you."

He was silent.

"Did the people come or whatever?"

He shook his head. "They told me it could be anywhere from five to ten in the morning." He took a sip of his coffee and rubbed his eyes.

Santana watched him for a moment. She set her mug of coffee down on the counter. "So, wait, have you like, been to bed at all?"

He smiled weakly at her. "I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

Santana stood, stunned into silence. He was her father, she knew that, she knew he loved her. He was never around. It wasn't like he didn't want to be, she knew that. Ever since her mother had left he picked up more hours, worked weird shifts. She was pretty sure he couldn't stand to see her because she looked so much like her mother. She was pretty sure that being in the house for anything other than sleep reminded him of what they had lost. But then they had lost each other in the process.

She missed him terribly all of a sudden. Even though he was right there.

"Thanks, dad," she said slowly. The words unfamiliar in her mouth. Addressing him unfamiliar.

He nodded and then became serious. It was as if the air in the room had changed, Santana felt like it had become heavier. "Santana, is there anything you want to tell me...about... anything?"

His eyes searched her face from across the kitchen. She looked down at the tile floor, her bare feet. "I told you everything about the stalker." She knew what he meant. She knew he was talking about Brittany. She had seen her. They had all seen her. The way Brittany touched her, comforted her, was there for her. It was beyond friendship and Santana knew he knew it, too.

He sighed. It was a heavy sigh and Santana felt like she had put that weight on him. He wasn't sleeping, he was installing a security system for her. He was there. He had literally left his job to come back to the place she was sure he hated to make sure she was alright.

"No, Santana. I mean," he paused, looking for the right word.

"I know, dad," she interrupted quickly. She wasn't ready to acknowledge it. Not now. Not during this.

"Santana," he began again. She looked away, feeling nervous, uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl back into bed with Brittany. That was where she could feel safe.

"Santana, you're my daughter and I love you." She flinched at his words. "But I don't know what's going on and I guess." Santana looked up at him. He was struggling. Struggling hard to find the right things to say. He looked old and tired and smaller than Santana remembered him ever being. "I haven't been around. I just want you to know I'm here. Even if I'm at work I'm still here for you. I'm still your dad." He paused and looked up at her. "I still love you, even if I don't understand."

Her face felt hot. She didn't like that he was so close to saying it, so close to bringing it up and being aware of her life. It had never been like that. She had always been on her own, since middle school. Her mom left, her dad worked. It was the natural order. She kept up good grades, he gave her money. There was no interaction except for major holidays. That was the was she thought it was supposed to be.

She thought back to eating dinner at the Pierces. How warm it was there. How empty she had felt, like an intruder. How awkward it was, like she was hugging someone and didn't know where to put her hands or something equally odd. How those feelings had disappeared the night her father had held her on the couch and soothed her after the first break-in.

Wasn't family all you had in the world?

Not when you had Brittany.

"I," she began not sure what to say or what she wanted to say. She wanted to say something, at least, she knew that. She didn't want to just lock it away like she had been. It caused so much grief. Grief for her, for Brittany. What could it hurt? Who would it hurt? "Brittany is special." Santana paused. "Brittany is special to me."

He nodded. Something felt lifted off of her shoulders and Santana sighed. It was a small step of progress. It had to be worth something.

"Brittany is special," he said. "I'm glad you have her."

Santana took a drink from her coffee before setting it on the counter top. "Me too," she replied. "Thanks again, dad."

"Of course, mija," he said as she left the room. Santana smiled. The Lopez family only talked in Spanish when angry, showing affection, or to make fun of people in public.

* * *

><p>School was not something Santana felt prepared for. She walked down the hallway, pinkie linked with Brittany's and she could sense all eyes on her. Eyes were usually on Santana of course, out of fear or loathing or jealousy. These eyes, though. These eyes were different. These eyes were the ones she was afraid everyone would look at her with if they found out she was...well, you know.<p>

Santana glared at anyone who dared to stare too long and tried to ignore the feeling that the eyes on her weren't all innocent. His eyes were in the crowd. She knew it. She hadn't told the police that. She hadn't told Brittany that. She couldn't draw anymore of this type of attention to herself. She couldn't, she wouldn't, case closed, fuck off.

The rumor mill was working overtime, though. She felt it and heard it when people thought she wasn't listening. They always thought that about her, though, like she couldn't hear them because she was so far outside of their social status.

He was getting to her. He definitely was. Santana was a pro when it came to deluding yourself. She had locked away her feelings for Brittany for a long time. She could just pretend her didn't exist. She could just pretend it hadn't happened. She could make it through the day if no one talked about to her. She could be okay if Brittany was there.

The first two classes of the day were cake. She didn't do her reading for _Great Expectations_ but had the foresight to print off the SparkNotes for the chapter up for discussion during her first period computer filler class. In English when the teacher asked her what she was reading she had explained that SparkNotes helped keep her refreshed on chapters since she sometimes had trouble distinguishing what happened in each chapter, lie. She hoped that would be okay, a student utilizing her resources to help her get a better grade. You know, if the teacher didn't find any problem with students being clever. He hated her. She loved it.

But when World Cultures rolled around, she felt exhausted. She was sure her father felt the same way, if he still hadn't been to bed. She didn't want him driving to work or working without sleep. She pulled out her phone and texted him, something she couldn't actually ever remember doing before.

_Get some sleep before work, please._

She wondered if he knew how to text. His reply was swift.

_Don't text during school._

She rolled her eyes and couldn't help but laugh.

Kurt sat in the empty desk chair next to her. "What's funny?" Mercedes sat beside him.

"I didn't know my dad knew how to text," she replied, still smiling at her phone.

"Oh yes, parental texting. It's like parents on Facebook or one of Rachel's outfits. It shouldn't happen." He smiled.

"My mom texts me all the time and I can't even read what it says," Mercedes said rolling her eyes.

The group fell silent. They never really interacted outside of Glee, especially pleasantly.

"Santana," Mercedes began, not meeting Santana's eyes. "I heard that someone broke into your house." She said the words slowly, as if afraid Santana would pounce any moment. Would go all Lima Heights.

"Yeah," she replied, looking away. "It's fine, we're all fine. No worries."

"Isn't this the second time that's happened?" Santana looked up and met Kurt's eyes. There was real concern there and she felt a rush of affection towards him.

"I just wish people would stop talking about it." It was an honest answer.

"Sorry," Kurt said, looking away.

Everyone fell silent again. "It's fine. My dad is installing some security thing today. So, things are good."

"Good."

"Awesome."

The group lapsed into silence. Santana hated that they had brought it up. She hated that people were still talking about it. She knew she couldn't deal with it if it was out there. Then a thought struck her.

"Hey, Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you and Blaine still finding dead rats outside of your house in the morning?"

He scrunched his eyebrows together. "No, that stopped a while ago. Why do you ask?"

Santana shook her head slowly. "Just wondering."

Something was off. Something was really, really off.

* * *

><p>When the bell rang Santana was one of the first people out of the room. She knew she'd see Kurt and Mercedes in Glee club in a few minutes, but for now she only had one thing on her mind.<p>

She found what she was looking for in seconds. Brittany walked out of her English class, laughing with another Cheerio.

"Brittany," Santana said to get her attention.

Brittany looked up and smiled, she said something to the other Cheerio who nodded when she saw Santana. They parted and Brittany practically skipped down the hall. "Why hello, darling," she said in a mock British accent.

"Hey," Santana replied, smiling wide. She glanced around the hallway before pulling Brittany into the closest bathroom and shutting the door. She pulled her around the wall, out of view. She wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist.

"Hey," Brittany said gently, automatically bringing her arms up around Santana's neck. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Santana said, burying her face into Brittany's neck. She inhaled and sighed. She was okay now.

Brittany rested her head against Santana's and hummed softly. "It's okay, San," she said softly.

"I'm fine," Santana replied. She still clung on tight, as if Brittany was the only thing keeping her on the ground. Sometimes she felt like Brittany was the only thing keeping her sane.

Brittany kissed her temple. "Okay," she replied.

Santana closed her eyes. She wanted to go... where? Home? No. Definitely not, not if her father wasn't there. She wanted to go to Brittany's and see her family. The idea made her feel heavy, like she had just swallowed cement and it was hardening in her lower stomach, weighing her down. Last time she had hidden away at Brittany's Lord Tubbington had been killed.

"We have to go to class," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear.

Santana sighed and pulled away. She could have stayed wrapped around Brittany forever. That scared her, excited her. She thought about talking to her dad this morning. She thought about not telling Brittany about the last phone call. How he was in the school. How he was there now.

But he wouldn't make a move in front of everyone, would he?

No. No, he couldn't. Not in front of people. That would be insanity.

And yet...

* * *

><p>They walked into the choir room together. Pinkie in pinkie. Santana saw Kurt eye her up and down and then smirk to himself before turning back to Blaine. She ignored him and took a seat with Brittany. There was a banner above the whiteboard, across from everyone's chairs. It had been Brittany's idea and her own doing. It read "Halloween in 2 (School) Days!" Each day the number was covered up with another. The countdown helped with motivation, even though the group didn't really need any at this point.<p>

"Okay, well, what's on the agenda Halloween leaders?" Mr. Schue said addressing Brittany and Tina.

"We need to test the harness," Brittany said quickly.

"And finish decorating the small things," Tina chimed in. "If we finish the cobwebs and the little things and moving out this stuff or rearranging at least then we'll have less to do the actual day. More time to rehearse."

New Directions hadn't been the only group hard at work. Many of the classrooms had been slowly transforming over the weeks. There were decorations, rearranged furniture, everyone seemed to be involved.

"Halloween is on Monday, guys," Brittany said to the room. "We have to rehearse tomorrow and get it down."

"Learning things in a short amount of time is like, our specialty," Mercedes said to Brittany. "You and Tina have pretty much set up everything for us."

Brittany smiled, Santana knew today was going to be a good day.

"I brought stuff," Puck said pointing to a box in the corner of the room.

Brittany jumped to her feet and ran to the box. "Is this a strobe light?" She pulled a small black box out.

"Yep," Puck said grinning. "No way we can terrify the piss out of those kids without a strobe light."

"Did you steal it?" Quinn asked looking at him with disgust.

"I got this," Puck said, shrugging.

"Puck," Mr. Schue began.

"I didn't steal them, I swear. My little sister is a total freak and loves this stuff. She said we could burrow it for a while, 'kay? Have a little faith." He looked from Quinn to Mr. Schue.

"Awesome job, Puck," Brittany said picking up the box and putting it on the table that had been moved into the choir room from storage. It sat where the band used to sit and was going to be where the body parts were stored. She began pulling items out of the box and organizing them.

"Okay, Rachel, I need to talk to you and Mercedes about the script," Tina said.

Everyone broke into groups, doing their designated job, making the choir room into a mini-haunted house. Santana ended up next to Kurt and Blaine who were stringing up cobwebs. It was their job to cover the windows, make it look scary, they had been told. Blaine was the only one who seemed to really be trying.

"So," Kurt began turning his head around to check no one was listening. "How was the date?"

Santana glared at him.

"It's fine, Santana, Blaine knows," Kurt said shrugging. "Tell me what happened. Did the outfit go over well? Who am I kidding? Of course, it did. I picked it out."

"Santana," Blaine began. "It's fine, I promise. I kinda suspected. But I promise I don't think any differently of you."

Santana stared at them for a moment. She felt angry and betrayed and what was that other feeling that was creeping it's way forward and spreading through her? Relief. It was relief. She thought about the conversation with her dad in the kitchen. She thought about how Brittany didn't want to push her but really just wanted to be able to hold her hand at school.

"It was great," she replied after a moment. "You know, until we found that guy in my room."

"What?" Kurt stared at her, eyes wide.

"What are you talking about?" Blaine's voice was low, serious.

"It was nothing," Santana replied, shaking her head. She couldn't take her eyes off of them. Switching back and forth. She thought everyone knew. Jenna liked to talk... But how would she know? A million thoughts swirled in her head at once. So no one knew the details? "Look, just keep this between us, please."

"Yeah," Kurt said, almost breathless. "What happened?"

She was silent. She did not want Kurt to know what was going on. She didn't want him telling people. But he had kept her secrets before. The little bursts of relief she felt whenever she told someone something seeped into her head.

_This was making friends_, she told herself. _This is what normal people do, they share._

She explained it to them. She told them everything she had told the police. They listened, intently. Every once in a while one of them would hang something half-heartedly to keep up the appearance of actually working. When she was done they were silent.

"This is serious, Santana," Blaine finally said.

"No shit," she replied.

"Santana," Kurt began.

"Look, I'm okay. My dad is installing security things or whatever. I have new rules, I lock the doors, okay? I'm fine."

They were silent. Santana watched as they exchanged a look. "I was just going to say," Kurt began. "I'm here if you know, you need anything." He shrugged and stood on a chair, trying to drape the cobwebs gracefully over the window.

"Thanks," Santana mumbled.

Blaine smiled at her. "You have friends, Santana," he said.

Santana nodded and searched the room, eyes landing on Brittany. Everyone worked around her but Santana felt completely still, like the world had muted itself. She watched Brittany laugh and explain something to Puck about strobe light placement.

She smiled.

* * *

><p>"I hate Cheerios," Brittany moaned as she entered the locker room.<p>

"I hate Sue Sylvester," Santana muttered mutinously. She glanced around, making sure the harpy herself wasn't nearby.

"I want to just sleep. Can I just lay down on the floor and sleep?"

"Just shower and then we can go home and sleep...together," Santana whispered the last part.

Brittany gave her a coy half-smile. "No, we can't. We're going to Rachel's."

"God, what a mood killer that was," Santana said grimacing. She grabbed a towel from the rack of clean linens.

"We're working on costumes," Brittany said. "Remember? Halloween is so close, San."

They were two of about eight girls in the locker room. Very few people used the school locker rooms to shower, especially on the Cheerios. It was unofficially reserved for the seniors or the other squad members who had moved far enough up the social ladder to be accepted. Santana had no qualms about being more open with Brittany. She was a top dog and these girls had known Brittany and Santana were close since freshman year. They were used to it.

"But Berry's house?" She groaned. "I just went through one of the most grueling training sessions in the fucking history of Cheerios and now you're dragging me to go and hang out in her basement. She'll probably force us to watch her perform something from _Yentl_."

Brittany laughed. "Please go?" She pouted her lips slightly at Santana, winking at her.

"Fine," Santana said, rolling her eyes. Rolling them at herself, at how easily she had crumbled.

"Santana?" Both girls turned. There was a Cheerio standing in the locker room entrance, as if she needed permission to enter. Santana recognized her. Jenna. She was still dressed in full Cheerios uniform, sweat dripping down her face. She looked even more exhausted than Santana felt. Santana smirked. Freshman.

"What?" Santana snapped. She saw Brittany's disapproving look from the corner of her eye and tried to soften her voice. She cleared her throat. "What do you want?" No luck. She shrugged at Brittany.

"I just.." Jenna stopped and glanced around the locker room. She looked out of place and a little scared. "Can we talk?"

Santana looked at Brittany who shrugged.

Santana wanted to talk to her, well, interrogate her. Find out what she knew and how she knew it. Find out what Azimio had to do with anything. She needed to know things and Jenna was notorious as a gossip already. It was only October of her freshman year.

"Fine," Santana said quickly. She turned from Brittany who trailed a hand across her shoulder. It looked innocuous enough but Santana had to fight the urge to shiver, to follower her to the shower and..

Focus.

"Can we talk outside?" Jenna asked quietly.

Santana narrowed her eyes. She could see nerves working in the girl. She had started sweating again.

"Fine," she said through her clenched jaw.

Santana stepped into the gym where they had just been practicing. Everything was put up and it was empty. No one stuck around, why would they? When Coach Sylvester dismissed you, you got out. Fast.

"What do you want?" Santana glared at the girl and realized they were the same height. She didn't like that.

"I just wanted to say," she paused, searching for words.

"Spit it out," Santana barked. She could be as mean as she wanted to. She had earned it. She was a senior on the Cheerios for fucks sake.

"I just, are you seeing anyone?" Jenna didn't meet her eyes.

Santana felt blindsided. Her jaw dropped open slightly before she could regain herself. She folded her arms cross her chest and smirked. "Are you asking me out?"

Jenna's eyes shot up to Santana's quickly. "What? No! I'm not. Not that there's anything wrong with... Not that there's any reason for me to say..."

Santana cocked and eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. "Watch your words," she replied.

Jenna shook her head. "I just meant. Because I know things. Guys, who like you."

Santana tilted her head. What was this girl playing at?

Jenna must have misinterpreted the confusion for interest, she plowed on. "Football players. I know Caleb has had his eye on you for like, ever. The new guy, Michael, he likes you too."

"Who?" Santana scrunched up her face.

"Michael, you were at his party last month. You shoved past me when I asked if you were okay." She looked at Santana's face then looked away. Afraid of constant eye contact.

"Are you trying to set me up with someone?" Santana stared at her, feeling incredulous.

"Well, I'm just showing you your options," Jenna began.

Santana held up a hand to silence her. The effect was immediate. "First off, mind your own business, freshman. I know we've got the bond of shedding blood, sweat, and pounds together for Coach Sylvester but that does not make us friends. Which makes my business mine and your business irrelevant. Secondly, if this is about me trying to steal Azimio from you," Santana paused and laughed slightly, smiling at Jenna like it was the craziest thing she had ever heard. It was definitely in her top five craziest things she'd ever heard, at least, though. "No worries there. He isn't my type. I'm not into the behemoth jock types who can't see their own junk past their gut. Also, he's not your type. Take it from an old pro. If you want to be popular, don't pick the first guy that looks at you. Find the one everyone wants and claw your way to the top, starting with him. Thirdly, I'm taken. Happily so."

Santana cocked her head to the side. "We done here, sweet cheeks?"

Jenna nodded, eyes wide.

"Good," Santana said turning away and heading back towards the locker room. She could feel her ponytail swishing behind her and felt high. She always felt powerful when she used one of her patented Lopez tear downs.

Something still bothered her. Was that what everything had been about? Was it just Jenna jealous of Azimio looking at her? Something felt off. Santana began to think that she would feel that something was off until the stalker was caught..

* * *

><p>"Why did you have to shower?" Santana asked. She was driving to Rachel's, which was the last place she wanted to be. Brittany smelled wonderful. Like vanilla and Brittany and all things that made Santana want to touch her. In the tight confines of the car it was all she could smell.<p>

"What?" Brittany asked, tilting her head to the side, smiling slightly at the odd comment.

"You just smell so damn good," Santana replied. She flipped on her turn signal then slowed to a stop at a stop sign.

Brittany chuckled lightly. "You do, too," she retaliated with.

"Yeah, but you're not nearly as desperate as I am to get you home and in bed," Santana replied. The honesty in her response surprised her and she couldn't bring herself to look at Brittany. It was more than she had wanted to say. She had been doing that a lot lately. Asking Kurt for help, acknowledging that there was something going on with Brittany to her dad, telling Jenna she was taken. It was a lot for just two days.

Brittany leaned across the console and kissed Santana lightly on the cheek, resting her hand on her thigh. "You're cute," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"Tease," Santana said parking in front of Rachel's house, on the street. There were already a few cars in the drive way. She sighed. "Why Rachel's?"

"She has more stuff to work with for costumes," Brittany said getting out of the car.

"I already have my outfit, though," Santana said, getting out as well.

"Oh?" Brittany cocked her head.

Santana walked around the car, pulling her jacket tighter around her. It was chilly. She took Brittany's hand in hers without thinking. "Yeah, I'm going as a devil in a red dress. I told you. I already bought the dress and I found a head band with horns on it."

"I thought you were kidding," Brittany said laughing.

"Nope, I look hot in red," Santana said smiling at Brittany's reaction. "What are you going as?"

"It's a secret," Brittany replied, knocking on the door.

Santana let go of Brittany's hand and linked their pinkies together quickly. She didn't miss the way Brittany's face fell slightly. The way she seemed just a little less bright when Rachel greeted them and led them down the stairs to the basement.

The room brought back hazy memories of doing body shots with Brittany. Santana felt herself flush and prayed that the night went quickly. She wanted to get home, get Brittany home. When had she become so desperate?

"So, Santana," Rachel began and Santana closed her eyes momentarily, resisting the urge to call her a name just for daring to speak to her. "What are you going to be for Halloween?"

Santana knew Rachel was only asking so that she would reciprocate the question, so that Rachel could gush about how she and Finn would be going as something themed. Like Adam and Eve or Romeo and Juliet.

"I'm going as a devil in red dress," Santana repeated, feeling redundant.

"Oh," Rachel said, nodding slightly. "That's creative."

"Not really," Santana shrugged. "My costume is done, I'm here for support." Santana walk to where Quinn was sitting on a couch, chin resting in her hands. She sat down.

"Right, well, Finn and I are going as Belle and the Prince from _Beauty and the Beast_," Rachel said beaming.

Quinn leaned over and whispered to Santana. "She's only told us about a billion times."

"Wait, shouldn't you be Belle and the Beast?" It was Brittany who asked.

Rachel turned. Brittany had joined Tina, Kurt, and Mercedes who were all looking at Tina's corpse bride dress. "No, Finn is the Prince after the transformation."

"But the Beast is totally a better costume," Brittany stated looking to Santana for confirmation. Santana smiled at her.

"I have to agree with Brittany on this," Santana said to Rachel.

"No," Rachel stopped and sighed, exasperated. Her thousand watt smile faltering only slightly. "It's a great costume as it is."

"Yeah, Finn probably can't grow that much hair, anyway," Santana said shrugging, leaning back on the couch.

Rachel paused and chose to ignore Santana. "Since neither of my dads can sew they special ordered the Belle dress for me. The pictures are beautiful."

Santana decided to drown out everything Rachel said for the rest of the night. She turned to Quinn. "What are you going as?"

"No idea," Quinn said slowly. "I don't really want to dress up. I was thinking of just recycling the dress I wore during _Bad Romance_."

Santana nodded. "The pink one?"

"Yep," Quinn said. She looked bored out of her mind. "I could go as Lady GaGa. Or a princess. Or just wear a nice dress."

"But you're gonna die," Santana said simply.

"Yep," Quinn responded nodding slightly.

"Well, when are you ever going to wear that pink thing ever again? Make it bloody, rip it up, be dead Lady GaGa or something," Santana said.

Quinn cocked an eyebrow at her. "Brittany's the creative one out of you two."

"Thanks, Q.," Santana said rolling her eyes.

"What's Britt going as?" Quinn asked after a few seconds silence.

"She won't tell me."

"Really?" Quinn said turning to look at Santana fully. "Now I'm intrigued."

There were a few boxes spread out on the floor. They were full of old costumes and a ton of craft supplies that Santana couldn't help but roll her eyes at. She saw some white feathers and sighed. Angel wings. She knew those wings and wanted to slap herself for having been involved in that lame ass _Run, Joey, Run_ video.

"Hey, Rachel?" It was Brittany who spoke.

Santana looked up. She and Quinn had lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was nice just sitting with people, especially these people she felt so comfortable around. Brittany was holding an old Hawaiian shirt. It was green with yellow and white leaves printed on it.

"Brittany, where did you find that?" Rachel looked shocked and embarrassed that someone had found the shirt in her house.

"It was in a box, can I use it for my costume?" Brittany asked looking up at Rachel from her spot on the floor in front of a box.

Everyone stared.

"Sure, Brittany," Rachel said slowly. "What are you going to be?"

"Oh, it's a secret," Brittany said in a serious voice.

"Right, well, you can definitely have that shirt. I mean, keep it. Forever." Rachel said, desperation leaking into her voice.

Brittany held the shirt to her chest and smiled so sweetly that Santana felt like her heart would burst. "Thank you, Rachel."

Rachel smiled at Brittany. "Well, of course, Brittany."

Santana didn't hate her as much after that.

The evening went on uneventfully. Santana watched as Brittany scoured all the boxes looking desperately for items to complete her costume. Santana still had no idea what she was going to be and the shirt had confused her even more.

"Where's Blaine?" Santana asked after a while.

Kurt sighed.

"Heard about this a billion times, too," Quinn mumbled from beside Santana.

Santana had put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Bored, dry sense of humor Quinn was her favorite thing about the evening so far.

"He's with the boys working on his _zombie_ costume," Kurt said, looking annoyed. "I wanted us to go as Victoria and King from _Victor/Victoria_ but he wants to be a _zombie._ How am I supposed to match with that?"

"No idea," Santana said in a mock scandalized voice.

Kurt sneered at her then returned to talking to Mercedes.

"Wait, the boys are working on costumes together?" Santana looked to Quinn who nodded. Santana sighed. She probably could have been having much more fun if she was with the guys. They were less dramatic, more laid back. And Rachel Berry wasn't laid back. It made sense, too. If Kurt was there, wouldn't it make sense for her to be...

_Don't even finish that sentence._

The evening got better. Brittany ended up telling stories about Lord Tubbington that made everyone laugh. Santana could still see the hurt behind Brittany's smiles. She wanted to leave, but waited until Brittany and everyone else felt like they had had enough of each other for the evening. It didn't take long.

Soon they were back in Santana's car.

"We can go to my house, if you want?" Brittany said. She was laying on her side in the passenger seat, legs tucked underneath her, watching Santana drive.

"It's fine," Santana said.

"I'm not mad about Lord Tubbington. You can come over," Brittany said gently, taking Santana's hand.

"I know," Santana said. "I just want to see this new system my dad had installed."

Brittany nodded.

* * *

><p>The house was empty when Santana unlocked the door and pulled Brittany inside. She looked beside the door frame. A keypad had been installed sometime in the early morning. Her dad had called her and given very specific instructions on how to operate it. She immediately typed in the PIN her father had told her. She made Brittany memorize it along with her.<p>

Santana went around the house checking all the rooms, making sure the doors and windows were locked and shutting the blinds.

Finally, she collapsed onto the guest bed. She had decided she didn't want to sleep in her room for a while. "I'm so tired," she groaned.

Brittany sat on the bed beside her. "Me too," she said, yawning. "Is your dad here?"

Santana pushed herself up on her shoulder. "No, he had to go to work. I hope he slept," Santana said slowly. He had said that he had slept after the workers had left the house. But had he slept enough?

"It's only nine,"Brittany said looking at her phone.

"We're so lame," Santana said lying back down on the bed.

She felt the bed shifting beneath her and then Brittany was lying beside her, arms pulled up to her chest. Santana smiled and turned onto her side, facing Brittany. She snaked her arm under Brittany's head and let her other hand rest on her hip.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," Brittany whispered back.

Santana closed her eyes. She was so tired. She was so comfortable. She felt Brittany leaning towards her, felt her cool lips on her forehead, on her cheek. Lightly on her lips. Then her neck.

"I thought you were tired?" Santana kept her eyes closed.

"Shhh," Brittany shushed her.

She continued to kiss Santana. Her neck, her lips, her stomach, everywhere. Every inch of her until Santana couldn't breath. Until it was her turn to kiss every inch of Brittany back.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Thanks for the reviews and alerts and favorites! I'm so glad that you all are enjoying this story because it really is a lot of fun to write. I would like to say, it isn't Mr. Schue, haha. But that prediction made me laugh. I know this is short, but it's been a crazy week. Plus, I hate to say this, but this is just a filler chapter. It is what it is, though. Things are about to move super fast, so just hang in there. I appreciate the feedback I'm getting and I hope I don't disappoint.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Santana kept her eyes closed. She was awake and had been for a good ten minutes, at least, but she didn't want to open her eyes. That meant facing the day. Going to school. Getting out of bed. All she wanted to do was sleep. It wasn't coming easy for her, lately. Not since the stalker had been in her room. Sure, she remembered to lock all of the doors and input the PIN number on the new security keypad, but still. She still couldn't stand to be alone in her room at night. The guest bedroom worked just fine. In fact, Santana was willing to put money up that the guest bed really _was_ more comfortable than her own.

Her phone dinged from the bedside table where it was charging.

She sighed and rolled over. It was a text message. She pressed a button on her phone and check the time. Almost seven. Who was texting at almost seven in the morning?

Brittany.

Santana smiled and opened the text:

_r we still on for this mornin? :)_

She clicked a quick response:

_of course, i'll get you soon._

Santana put the phone back on the nightstand and stretched under the blankets. She knew she didn't have enough time to take a shower if she wanted to have more than five minutes of alone time with Brittany before school started. She pushed herself out of bed and decided that she could take a shower later tonight, she would just wear her hair up.

Twenty minutes later Santana was pulling her shoes on and getting ready to head out the door. She had washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed into her Cheerios uniform and jacket and now she was ready to go get Brittany. Ready for her day to start.

She opened the door and punched in the PIN on the keypad before shutting and locking the it behind her. She stepped onto the path and stopped.

She felt like her heart had stopped beating.

Felt eyes on her.

Felt her skin crawl.

Lying in the middle of the path was the neighbors dog. It was dead, it's tongue lolling out slightly. Just like Lord Tubbington. Santana stared at the dog. It was big, a lab. His name was Kimbo. He used to bark at Santana when she came home late. She had hated the dog. If her dad had been home he almost always was woken up.

What if he was still here?

"Fuck," she whispered to herself.

Her heart seemed to pick up speed as soon as she spoke. She looked around but no one was on the street. The neighbors car wasn't parked in the drive way. She stared at the dog again before slipping around it and running to her car. She threw herself into the passenger seat, locked the door and jammed the key into the ignition.

* * *

><p>When she pulled up to Brittany's house she was so relieved to see Brittany outside waiting that she audibly thanked god. She jumped out of the car and met Brittany on the path, wrapping her arms around her chest, just below her arms and held on tight. She rested her head against Brittany's chest and tried to calm her nerves.<p>

"Hey, whoa, San," Brittany said, slowly wrapping her arms around Santana's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Santana shook her head. She wouldn't relinquish her grip. She wouldn't move. Not yet.

"Talk to me, San," Brittany whispered in her ear.

Santana broke away and locked her eyes on Brittany, trying to convey what she was feeling without having to say anything. Without having to tell her, without having to admit it out loud.

She was terrified.

"Come on," Brittany said, lacing her fingers gently into Santana's and leading her towards the car. "I'll drive, okay?"

Santana nodded slightly and let herself be dragged away. She climbed into the passenger seat and curled into the chair, facing Brittany.

Brittany turned the car on and backed carefully out of the drive way. She spent the entire car ride telling Santana small things about her morning. How she had thought she misplaced her toothbrush, but found it in the shower. How her parents have been talking about letting her get another cat, which she thought might be too soon, but then she reasoned Lord Tubbington would understand if it was a stray that didn't have a home.

Santana was silent. She was shivering slightly and she didn't know why. She didn't know anything, though, except the fact that she had never felt so frightened in her entire life. But why now? Why after the fact?

Brittany parked the car. It was almost 7:30.

"What happened?" She whispered quietly, unbuckling herself and turning to face Santana.

Santana shook her head.

Brittany reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, just enough to get Santana's attention.

"Talk to me," she whispered, sing-songing the words.

Santana closed her eyes and swallowed. She felt stupid, tired, weak, afraid. Like a small child that she was sure Brittany was sick of holding her hand and helping her shoo away the monsters. "I don't know why I'm so afraid."

Santana looked up at Brittany, who remained silent.

She took a breath. "The neighbors dog was outside. He was dead."

"Kimbo?" Brittany gasped. She looked shocked and her mouth turned down into a frown.

Santana nodded. "First he left rats, Britt. Then your cat," Santana paused when Brittany flinched at her words. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, San, I just miss him," Brittany said looking out the windshield.

"Then he broke in," Santana continued. "It was like he was working up to it. Then we found him in my room and it surprised him, you know? Like he knew we weren't going to be home and now there's a dead dog. A really big dog."

Santana could feel her heart pounding against her chest. She reached behind her and clicked the lock button on the car door and felt relieved to hear the click resounding through the interior, they were locked in.

"What are you saying?" Brittany asked. Her eyes were gentle, trying to convey comfort to Santana.

"He's moving up," Santana replied in a hushed voice. "He's moving up and I'm really afraid that I'm next. I'm really afraid that he's going to hurt me. It was different before because nothing really happened." She paused and took a breath. "But I just wasn't really thinking about it. Because, I don't know. I don't know why now. Because now I get it. Now I feel it."

_Now you know how close he is._

She kept the thought to herself. There was no reason to worry Brittany. But maybe she should tell someone. Maybe she should tell her dad. Maybe.

Brittany leaned in close and leaned her forehead against Santana's. "It's okay," she whispered, keeping their eyes locked together. "You're being so careful now and so safe. It's going to be okay."

"It's not," Santana replied. She was shivering slightly and hated herself for it. "It's not, Brittany."

"It will be," Brittany said. "I'm right here with you."

* * *

><p>Santana wasn't able to concentrate at school. Brittany had kept her in the car, sitting with their foreheads pressed together until Santana was no longer shaking and her nerves had calmed. They were both late. Santana walked into her English class, sat down and turned to look out the window.<p>

The teacher continued on with his lecture, stopping only for a beat when Santana handed him a note from the office, explaining her absence. He watched her, though, waiting for an outburst. When she continued to watch the window he continued on, relieved.

She was silent all through class. She didn't argue with the teacher, she didn't participate in a discussion and she barely completed the quickwrite assignment at the end of the class. She wanted to leave and go find Brittany again. There was no way she would be able to continue throughout the day without having Brittany's pinkie linked in hers.

When the class ended Santana stood up, ignoring the teacher, and walked straight to World Cultures. She slumped into her chair and wanted desperately to put her head on her desk and just exist without being noticed. She knew that wasn't a possibility, though. That she had spent day one at McKinley making sure she would _always_ be noticed. _Always._

She settled for leaning back. She set her face to a scowl.

"What's the matter with you?"

Santana turned her head to look at Kurt, standing beside her, fabulously dressed. "Nothing," she snapped, crossing her arms and turning her attention back towards the front of the classroom.

"Fine," Kurt huffed setting his bag on the desk beside her and taking a seat.

Santana narrowed her eyes but made no remark. Kurt had taken to sitting beside her and including her in his conversations with Mercedes. He had apparently misinterpreted her asking for help as an offering of friendship. Santana had no intentions to be friends with Kurt.

But she wasn't going to put a stop to it either. He was, after all, being nice. He was, after all, in Glee. But they weren't friends. At least, not best friends. When Mercedes sat down and offered Santana a friendly hello, Santana wanted to slap herself for replying and even smiling at her. She wasn't friends with her either, though. Just friendly.

Santana couldn't help but feel a little lighter, having them around. They were no Brittany, of course, but they were a good presence.

"Okay," the teacher began absentmindedly from the front of the classroom. She was sitting at her desk still, scribbling on some papers. Santana cocked an eyebrow. "Well," she looked up at her now silent students. "I have things to do so you all just..." She paused and looked down at her papers. "Work on your projects. Yes. But actually work or you'll owe me an essay tomorrow."

Santana smirked and turned towards Kurt and Mercedes. "Easy day," she said.

They smiled at her and she felt herself smiling back. She wanted to stop it from spreading across her face, but she couldn't. And honestly, they weren't that annoying to be around.

* * *

><p>The day hadn't been nearly as taxing as Santana had anticipated. Kurt and Mercedes had (reluctantly) put her in higher spirits and when she walked into the choir room she couldn't help but smile at Brittany, smile at everyone, at their hard work. At how the room really did look like a haunted house and now all it needed was for a few last minute touch ups.<p>

"I have to say, Brittany, Tina," began Mr. Schue surveying the room. "You guys have done an amazing job." He clapped his hands together. Everyone joined in, enthusiastically, Puck let out a whoop and Brittany was doing a victory fist pump.

All was well in the world.

"Halloween is close," Mr. Schue said. "Monday is the big day. I know that it may seem disorienting with the weekend in between but I promise we will spend the entire class Monday working on the room. Anyone is welcome to stay after and help set up. We don't open until six."

"I'm staying," Brittany said. She was leaning forward in her chair, legs crossed, elbow on her knee, supporting her chin. "I totally don't feel prepared."

Santana opened her mouth to offer comfort but was beaten to the punch by Tina.

"Brittany, we have so go this," she said smiling at the blonde. Her smile was contagious and soon Brittany was smiling and Santana knew she wouldn't be able to not smile. She was never able not to smile when Brittany did. It was the way things were. It was the way she wanted it. Always.

Santana's smile lasted all day. It continued through the rest of her classes and her drive home with Brittany. Santana turned onto her street and saw her house come into view. Her smile was gone so fast that she felt like it had been stolen off of her face.

Standing in her yard was her father. Her father and a hysterical neighbor. Kimbo. It hit her. This morning. Leaving and finding the dog outside. Running away. Running to Brittany. Her heart stopped for half a beat before picking up it's pace and jumping inside of her chest so hard it hurt. She lifted her hand to place on her chest but felt it weighed down. She turned to look at the console where Brittany had wrapped her hands around her own.

"I'm right here," she whispered.

Santana stared into blue eyes. She nodded. They got out of the car.

It wasn't necessarily cold outside but the wind made it chilly. Santana pulled her Cheerios jacket tighter around her. She walked slowly. Her feet felt like lead. She wanted so desperately to reach out and latch onto Brittany. Feel her warm hand in her own. She dug her hands into her jacket pocket to resist the urge.

"Dad?"

Dr. Lopez jerked his head to look at Santana. He looked tired. He looked old. He looked the way he had looked in the kitchen when he had asked about Brittany. Santana wanted to cringe.

"Santana," he said, relieved.

"What's going on?"

"What's going on?" It was the neighbor. Mr. Dickerson. He was middle-aged. Lived alone. He looked distraught. "My dog is dead outside of your house is what's going on." His voice was raised. He was practically yelling.

Any other time Santana would have lashed out at him with her words. She would have let the insults roll off of her tongue but she couldn't find it in her. She had no fight left. Especially after Lord Tubbington. This was her fault. But how could she deal with it.

"Steve," Dr. Lopez began. His voice was gentle, trying to reason with the angry man.

"No, my dog is dead! How did he even get out? And why is he dead _here_? In front of _your _house?" He was yelling.

"Are you suggesting that I had something to do with this?" Dr. Lopez said, voice strained. Santana had inherited her temperament from her mother, she knew that. But she had also seen her father angry and it was way scarier than her venom.

"Not you," Mr. Dickerson said, voice low, looking towards Santana.

"Excuse me?" Santana felt shocked. Her mouth hung open slightly. She hadn't expected him to blame her. To pin the death on her. Sure, it was her fault. But like with Brittany she hadn't actually expected anyone to place it on her shoulders.

"Let's all just calm down," Dr. Lopez said holding his hands up, very aware of how his daughter had inherited his ex-wife's temperament.

"I know it hurts." It was Brittany. She had stepped away from Santana and was standing close to Mr. Dickerson who was staring down at the covered form of Kimbo.

"What?" He snapped at her, glancing up to inspect her profile. To find any shred of mockery in her face.

"I lost my cat. He was like, my best friend," she paused and looked to Santana. "Besides San." She looked back at the dog. "And I was so sad and then I was mad for a second and then I realized that that didn't help at all and only made other people sad too. And it hurt me to be sad. I didn't want to hurt anyone else."

Everyone was silent, staring at the covered form of the dead dog. Santana felt awkward. It was just a dog. But she remembered Brittany tears and her heart felt heavy.

"Good pets are the best," Brittany said slowly. "They love you like, no matter what. Like when you're mad or when you forgot to shower or when you're sad. Especially then. But sometimes they just have to go away. But that doesn't make them any less awesome. Just less there and it's sad. But I'm okay." She turned to look at Santana for just a second.

"I may even adopt a kitten. Which Lord Tubbington would understand because I have all of this love to give to a kitty and I can't give it to him so I can give it to another kitty that doesn't have a home. I got to love him and now I can love another kitten and have a new journey."

Santana felt her heart melt. She knew she shouldn't be smiling so she tried her hardest to push it away. Brittany was so genuine, so real, so caring that Santana felt like her heart would burst with love. She wished she could just love like that. So easily. Like it was breathing.

Mr. Dickerson was quiet for a long time. Santana felt awkward standing there and wondered how Brittany felt. Every time she would steal a glance at her she looked content. Her father looked a little lost and kept shooting glances at Santana as if asking what was happening. Santana shrugged. If she felt it was okay to speak she would have explained it was just Brittany. Because that was the only way she could explain it.

It's just Brittany.

* * *

><p>Mr. Dickerson apologized through what Santana thought were tears. It made her feel horribly uncomfortable and she forgave him quickly, pulling Brittany into the house and up the stairs into the guest bedroom she had turned into her new room.<p>

Brittany said on the bed. "That's so sad, San," she said, voice cracking.

"Hey," Santana said shutting the door and moving towards the bed. She knelt down in front of Brittany and looked up into her face. She could see the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "You were so unbelievably kind."

Brittany nodded and closed her eyes, the tears fell heavy from her cheeks. Santana cupped Brittany's face in her hands and wiped the tears away gently with the pads of her thumb. "Why are you crying?"

Brittany shook her head slightly. "I'm being silly," she said.

"No," Santana said quietly scooting closer to her on her knees. "You're so freaking warm that it kills me sometimes. Because I love you so much and I love the way you love."

Brittany opened her eyes and searched Santana's face. "I love this Santana."

"What?" Santana asked, continuing to stroke Brittany's face with the pads of her thumb. She felt entranced as if she wouldn't be able to pull away from Brittany.

"No, I love you like this, Santana," Brittany clarified. "This gentle Santana that treats me like I'm I dunno, like, so important."

"You are so important," Santana said softly. "You're so important to me."

Brittany leaned her face down and pressed her forehead to Santana's. Santana closed her eyes and relaxed into the moment. The warmth of Brittany's skin. The way her breathing was even and her tears were fading away. She felt so full of love that she was afraid her heart would burst.

The positioning was awkward but she leaned up and kissed Brittany feather-light. As if their lips hadn't even touched. Brittany sighed and returned the same light kiss to Santana. Santana kissed her cheek, then her jawline. Then just below her ear until she was trailing light kisses down Brittany's neck. She heard Brittany's breath hitch and felt bolder.

She let her hands move up Brittany's thighs ever so slowly. Slid them around her back and found the zipper of her Cheerios uniform. She found Brittany's lips again and kissed them fully. She felt a jolt run through her body when Brittany's hands slid into her hair and pulled her closer, tilting her head. Santana slid the zipper down and had to suppress a moan and remember her goal was to get Brittany undressed when she felt the blondes tongue against her own.

She heard the front door shut downstairs.

Santana jumped away from Brittany so fast that she was pretty sure she had cut her tongue in the process. Her heart was hammering, her head was spinning.

"Girls?" She heard her father call up the stairs, his voice was slightly muffled from the distance. "I'm thinking pizza sounds good."

Santana stood, unable to move. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at Brittany. Brittany stood up and zipped up her Cheerios uniform before crossing the room and opening the door. "That sounds awesome," she called down the hall.

"Any preference?" The voice sounded closer, as if he was at the top of the stairs.

"Something with sausage?" Brittany said out the door.

"Alrighty," he said and Santana could hear him descending the stairs.

Brittany shut the door and turned back to Santana. She looked worried and Santana wanted to comfort her but she wasn't able to do anything except stand and feel shocked. "I forgot the doors," she said, voice hoarse.

"What?" Brittany said crossing the room. She pulled Santana close, holding onto her elbows and forcing her to look at her.

"I forgot to lock the door or set the alarm." Santana said it slowly. She felt fear trickling through her. Like standing under a leaking roof. It hit her hard and made her shiver. Like cold water droplets dripping down her neck.

"Your dad was here," Brittany said.

"No, I forgot. I just didn't think about it. I didn't think." Santana felt her voice rising and the fear along with it.

"Santana, you knew your dad was just outside. You've been doing so well. It's okay."

Santana pulled Brittany close and wrapped her arms around her middle. She felt Brittany's arms loop around her neck and pull her close. They stayed there, holding each other.

"Look at me, being a wreck and I was just comforting you," Santana said thickly. She felt the tears in her eyes. "So stupid."

"Nah," Brittany said, pulling away. "It's just been a long day."

Santana nodded. She looked down at her shoes. She felt the fear ebb away and be replaced with anger. Anger at herself for not thinking things through and making Brittany take care of her. She felt like a wreck.

"I'm going to go get clothes," Brittany said kissing Santana lightly on the cheek before leaving the room.

Santana watched her go and crossed the room, sitting on her bed.

When Brittany returned they changed clothes quietly. They spent the rest of the time until the pizza arrived in the guest bedroom. First they were silent until Brittany began to whisper to Santana until she laughed. Then they were both laughing, loudly and the doorbell rang and the pizza was especially delicious.

* * *

><p>He paced around his room. Eyes wide in anger, teeth gritting together hard. He stopped at his desk and slammed his fists onto his dresser. Again. Again. Again.<p>

"Ffff," the world built in him. Built deep in his stomach. The anger, the rage. The helplessness. "Fuck!" It bellowed from him. He felt like his throat was tearing. Every time he screamed like this it burned. When he had screamed in her house.

Her house. It smelled different than he had thought. It smelled clean, spotless. It smelled normal. Not that it he had expected it to smell different. He was just surprised. For someone reason it was just supposed to smell different. Different. She was different.

That was the problem, wasn't it?

He banged his fist on the dresser again. He unfurled his hands and stared. His nails had dug tiny slits into his palms. He couldn't feel anything, though. He knew he wouldn't feel anything until everything had drained out of him. Until he felt dead, then fell asleep. Then woke up and realized how far gone he had been. How close he had been.

He was losing control.

The dog had been evidence enough of that. He hadn't meant to kill it. He had gone there to see her. He had gone to just look at her. He hadn't wanted to touch her or hurt her or scare her. He hadn't that time. Just to keep an eye. He knew he couldn't go back in there.

Not after being caught. It was embarrassing. Humiliating.

"Stupid fucking fuck," he yelled beginning to pace again.

It had just happened. The dog. He had been there and it was barking and he didn't want to get caught. He didn't have a choice. He had to do it. He had to. There wasn't any other choice.

It was like when she had called the police. He had seen the other girl leave. Had seen she was upset. Had seen how perfect it was for her to be alone. He had just wanted to come in. He had remembered calling her and then going in. Then it was blurry like bad reception or watercolors or the way he felt when things got too big. Later, he remembered how his shoulder had ached and how her screaming had echoed in his head. He didn't understand why she had gotten so upset. If she hadn't tried to lock him out he wouldn't have had to bang on the door. Then she called the police and she was just confused and it made him angry she would think that of him. Later, it had all made sense. Later.

He just had to keep it cool. It was easy to keep it cool at school where everyone was watching him. He knew they were, even if they didn't. He knew they were waiting for him to make a move or mess up. He knew his parents watched him. Especially after that crazy weekend. So, he could keep it together with eyes on him. But alone. Alone at night. Thoughts of her and what she was doing.

How she was teasing him.

How it drove him crazy and he didn't know why. Crazy. Mad. Psycho.

All of it. He was all of it and it was eating him up inside like termites or acid or alcohol poisoning or paint remover or bad take out or getting too close to fire and inhaling so deeply. So deeply. Too deep.

He was in too deep.

It wouldn't matter anymore anyway. He was going to end it. He couldn't handle having her in his head anymore. It was too much. Too deep. Too much.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: **Thanks for the reviews and alerts and favorites. I love this story and I'm glad you love it too. It saddens me we're nearing the end, though. Still, enjoy! I've filled these last three chapters with nothing but suspense... or tried.

And Buttercup, no, it's not Brad. That was an interesting guess, though.

I hope I don't disappoint. I'll say it again, the who isn't really important to me. I was actually going to reveal him this chapter but decided to just replace the name with 'he'. I hope you like it. Only two more chapters down and those updates are going to come as soon as I finish writing each chapter.

I apologize if this chapter isn't up to my usual standards, I feel like it's not and some parts are a bit messy, but I tried.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

All of the anxiety had seemed to rush out of Santana over the weekend. She had spent a leisurely Saturday sleeping in tucked next Brittany, relaxing in the house, watching movies. It had been like a vacation. They didn't leave the house the entire day and stayed in pajamas. It was exactly what she needed and when Santana's dad left for work Saturday evening Santana saw it as an opportunity to relax further. To relax with Brittany.

When Monday morning rolled around and there were no phone calls or dead animals outside Santana felt okay. She felt good. She felt like she could handle the day as she drove Brittany to school.

"Oh no!" Brittany had cried from the passenger seat.

Santana slammed on the breaks in the middle of her street. She checked her rearview mirror to make sure there was no one behind her before darting her eyes to Brittany. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She felt on edge. Her mind started running through a mental checklist, had she locked her door? Had she set her alarm?

"It's Halloween!" Brittany's eyes were wide and she looked slightly distraught.

Santana stopped her silent panicking and put the car in park, not caring that she was still in the middle of the road. It was the suburbs, at least. "It is?"

"Yeah and I totally forgot my costume because I stayed with you all weekend!" Santana knew it wasn't an accusatory statement, just a statement.

"I forgot mine, too," Santana said.

Brittany looked at her with her eyebrows scrunched together and her mouth slightly open, searching for words. "Go get it," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Santana smiled. "Okay, Britt, then we'll go get yours."

Brittany sighed. "That would have been terrible. I've so got to get it together."

"You really do," Santana joked shifting the car into drive and pulling into a random neighbors drive way so she could turn around.

When Santana rushed into the house her costume was easy enough to grab. She pulled a tote bag out of her closet and threw her red dress, matching heels, devil horns and an assortment of make up into it before running down the stairs. She cast a quick look around the entrance way before punching in the PIN code and leaving the house, locking the door and dashing to the car where Brittany was mouthing for her to hurry up.

Getting Brittany's costume was just as easy. Brittany was worried about being late and she couldn't be late because people were counting on her. Santana tried her hardest to get them to Brittany's house as fast as Brittany wanted without breaking any speed limits.

Brittany's house was only a few minutes from Santana's, luckily. As soon as the car had pulled into the driveway Brittany dove out of it, stumbling slightly considering it was still moving, recovered and rushed to the front door, keys jangling in hand. "Chill, okay? Don't kill yourself," Santana yelled as Brittany disappeared into the house with a wave. Santana rolled her eyes and waited. She was extremely interested to see what Brittany was going to be for Halloween. She still secretly hoped she was going to be Ke$ha. That was a look she could definitely get on board with.

After five full minutes Brittany emerged from the house with a small black overnight bag in hand. She dashed to the car, threw open the door and slammed herself into the seat, throwing the bag onto the floorboard. It was zipped up and Santana frowned.

"Gonna tell me what you're dressing up as?"

"Drive, San, I gotta get there early," Brittany said fidgeting in her seat. She slid a hand over the console and rested it on Santana's bare thigh.

Santana's lips curled into a smile.

* * *

><p>The parking lot was a lot more full that it usually was when Brittany and Santana pulled in. Other students were walking from their cars, holding costumes or props. Apparently, Brittany wasn't the only one who wanted to be early to get the day started. Anticipation had woken everyone up and driven them to be on time, to be early, to be prepared. Santana could see Brittany practically jumping up and down in her seat as she parked her car.<p>

"Everyone is so into this," Brittany whispered with awe.

"Yeah," Santana said, eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised that everyone _was_ so into it. It didn't jive with McKinley's track record. Then again, it was a Figgins-sanctioned day they could act like kids. "Well, let's go in, I guess."

They still had a good twenty minutes before school actually started but Brittany said multiple times how she wanted to get to the choir room to work on a few last minute details.

When they walked into the school, pinkies linked, Santana was shocked at the change in the hallways. They were covered in cobwebs and cut outs and signs and posters showing traffic where each part of the festival was.

Santana glanced at Brittany who was smiling so wide that it made something in Santana's chest tighten. "Let's go to the choir room," Santana said pulling Brittany along.

They walked through the halls, Brittany stopping every few seconds to look at something while Santana continued to pull her, trying to keep her on track. She stopped at her locker and shoved her tote bag inside. She'd get it later. She waited for Brittany to stuff her bag in her locker but Brittany made to leave, bag still in hand.

"You're not going to put it in there?" Santana asked, eyebrow cocked, motioning to the locker with her thumb like a hitchiker.

Brittany scrunched up her face. "You know my locker combo."

Santana's mouth opened slightly and she felt her lips curling upwards. Before she could reply Brittany relinked their pinkies and began pulling her towards the choir room. They could hear noise and laughter echoing from it's open doorways. Brittany skipped ahead and Santana followed behind, arms crossed, trying desperately not to let the excitement and enthusiasm get to her.

Inside, the choir room had completely transformed. The piano was gone, the room was covered in cobwebs and the strobe lights and black lights had been placed strategically in the room. There was a table when you first walked in on your right for Brittany to force small children to sample 'body parts.' The harness was hanging from the ceiling. Everything that screamed Glee club had been removed or covered with Halloween decorations.

Santana couldn't help the grin on her face.

"I guess it's not so lame," a voice said from beside her.

She turned, Quinn. "Yeah, I guess so," Santana said, blotting out her smile and trying to put a scowl back on her face. Who was she kidding, though?

"Britt's really excited," Quinn said.

"Well, yeah," Santana started. "She and Tina like, did this." Santana motioned to the room at large.

They were silent for a moment. "I can't believe I'm hanging from a freaking harness."

"Well, at least you don't have to get fake molested by Frankenteen," Santana said cringing.

Quinn shrugged.

* * *

><p>The day was a day unlike any McKinley had ever seen before. The classrooms that were participating were a wreck. Some weird fusion of an attempting to function classroom and a makeshift, one room, haunted house. Each class was so distracted most teachers allowed students to have free reign. Santana played cards in half her classes, watched a movie in one and spent Glee club doing last minute touches.<p>

Sue Sylvester had even canceled Cheerios practice. Which explained their rigorous and extra long workouts from the previous week.

The day flew by. Santana hadn't ever remembered smiling as much as she had all day or seeing Brittany laugh so much. She wanted to reach out and hold her hand, kiss her, share her feelings for the day with Brittany. She knew she was experiencing something rare. The whole school had seemed to come together for the occasion.

And then, it was the last bell.

* * *

><p>Santana met Brittany outside the choir room. Brittany had decided a long time ago she was going to stay after school and make sure that everything was set up for the Glee clubs haunted room. She wanted it to be perfect. When they entered the choir room and every single member of New Directions was already there working and getting together costumes Santana looked to Brittany, grinning.<p>

She thought it was maybe just a trick of light or something, but she could have sworn Brittany's arms were covered in goosebumps and her eyes had started to water. Brittany dove right in without blinking, helping Kurt and Blaine stack the chairs everyone usually sat in, put them on the cart and roll them to a nearby empty classroom they were using for storage.

Santana ended up helping set up the slab with Finn.

"Just drape the cloth over," Santana said, shrugging.

"Shouldn't we like, tape it or something?" Finn asked holding the white table cloth up and looking at the long table that he was supposed to use as a slab.

"Tape it?" Santana cocked an eyebrow. "I guess we should anchor it somehow." She felt awkward, working alone with Finn. Brittany was making last minute adjustments with Tina and Rachel was talking excitedly to Mercedes about their staring roles for the night.

"Yeah," Finn said looking up at Santana before glancing away, seeking out Rachel.

After much debating and a few insults they both agreed taping it down would have to be the way to go. They used duct table to secure the sheet to the bottom of the table and the legs.

"I think you're doing too much, Frankenteen," Santana said standing back.

"People are going to be crawling on and off this thing all night, Santana," Finn said firmly. "It needs to be secure."

"Fine," Santana said rolling her eyes. She moved towards the box of supplies sitting in the corner of the room and began digging through the items until she pulled out two small plastic bottles.

"What's that?" Finn asked standing up, surveying his work.

"Blood," Santana said shrugging and twisting a bottle open. She covered her hand in the fake blood and pressed it against the taut fabric, pulling down. The sheet held firm, the blood smeared into a strangled hand print.

"Cool," Finn said. Santana tossed him the other bottle.

They worked in silence. "So," Santana said squirting a zigzag of the red substance onto the table. "You're going as Ghostface and the Beast?"

Finn sighed. "Yep. I have to wear the black cape thing," he gestured awkwardly at his shoulders. "Over the tux thing Rachel got me."

Santana nodded. "Sounds...I don't care." She finished realizing she had nothing to add and that her conversation with Finn was becoming too friendly.

Finn rolled his eyes. "What are you going as?"

"Devil in a red dress," Santana repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

"Hm," Finn said.

"What?" Santana asked eyebrow raised.

"Just fits you Satan, I mean, Santana," Finn covered lamely.

"Shut up," Santana snapped wiping her hand on the cloth. She had done it to rid her hands of the fake blood but the smear fit right in. She couldn't help the half smile on her face. She knew she was going to have fun tonight.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to fly. When Santana finished the table she had been instructed to help go to the Home Economics classroom and fix the food for the night with Tina. She only agreed to help because Brittany had asked with her lips pouting and Santana didn't say no to Brittany. It was how she worked.<p>

She watched as Brittany tested the lights and sound effects that were going to play in the background. She watched as the harness was tested for the millionth time at Quinn's request and then it was time for everyone to begin changing into costumes.

"I gotta get mine out of my locker," Santana said leaving the choir room and promising to meet the rest of the girls in the bathroom.

Santana felt excited and had to force the smile off of her face and keep her pace even as she approached the bathroom, tote bag slung on her shoulder. She couldn't help the excitement building in her. It was like before a show or when she had asked Brittany out on a date. She pushed open the swinging door to the bathroom.

Quinn was already wearing her Lady Gaga dress. It had a few artistic rips in it and a few spatterings of red. She was perched in front of a mirror carefully putting make up on. Tina was beside her in a dress that looked like someone had reached into the movie _Corpse Bride_ and pulled the ghostly wedding dress out for her to wear. She was coating her face in heavy white powder. Kurt was standing beside Tina.

"What the hell are you wearing?" She asked. He was dressed in a half white half black suit.

"It's my costume from _Le Jazz Hot_," Kurt supplied, looking at Santana through the mirror.

"So what the hell are you? You look...dead." The costume had been ripped in places like Quinn's dress and there were a few blood spatters on it as well.

Kurt sighed. "Relationships are about compromise and so Blaine had me _compromise_ my costume. We are now going as well," he paused. "I'm Victoria-slash-Victor and Blaine is King Marchand from the musical."

Santana stared at him through the mirror, eyebrow still raised.

"_Victor/Victoria_," Kurt supplied.

Santana shrugged. "Doesn't explain the dead look."

"Well, compromise," Kurt began. "Blaine wanted zombies so we are zombified Victor-slash-Victoria and King Marchand." He paused. "It's alright though, Julie Andrews would have been fabulous, even as a reanimated corpse. I will too."

Santana nodded, unsure of how to take the conversation further. She decided to leave it.

Mercedes, Rachel, and Brittany were in stalls, Santana guessed, changing.

"I really think that tonight is going to be spectacular," Rachel was saying from the large handicap stall.

"I have to say I'm surprised the school has gotten so into everything," Quinn said carefully without looking away from herself in the mirror.

"It's because Brittany put so much into our room," Tina said, finishing her layer of white. Santana couldn't help but think she really looked dead.

"You guys have been awesome," Brittany said from a bathroom stall. Santana turned her attention towards it.

"Still not going to tell me what you are?" Santana asked the blue stall door.

"San," Brittany said, exasperated. "Just give me a second to get the belt on right with the stuff and you'll see. It's super good, I promise."

Santana shook her head, having no idea what Brittany could mean. She walked across the bathroom and set her tote bag on the counter next to Kurt. She nodded at him, trying hard not to be too friendly. She pulled her dress and shoes out of her bag and disappeared into an empty stall. It's not that she cared changing in front of everyone, she didn't. There was a shock factor of coming out of the stall in her tight red dress and seeing the looks on everyone's face. She gratefully shed the Cheerios uniform and slipped into the dress. She bent awkwardly and slipped her heels onto her feet. She smoothed the dress down and then opened the stall.

Her heels _clacked _on the tile. She approached the last available mirror and studied her hair in it, still in a ponytail. She could see Tina, Quinn, and Kurt watching her from the corner of her eye. She smirked.

"That dress," Kurt began. "It's fabulous."

"I know," Santana said, voice low, slightly coarse. She could feel herself soaking up their awe like rays from the sun.

She pulled her hair smoothly from it's ponytail and let it fall loosely on her shoulders. She used her fingers to gently shake it out before trying to muss it a bit. She was going for a bit of sex hair. Satisfied with her work she took the headband out of her bag, slipped it onto her head, adjusted her make up just a bit, adding more drama to her eyes before stepping back from the mirror.

"Perfect," she said.

Mercedes and Rachel opened their stall doors at the same time.

Rachel's dress was beautiful. It hung a bit more limp than the animated dress Belle had worn but the effect was the same. It was a gorgeous dress. Mercedes was wearing a dress of her own. Black, chic.

"Oh, Mercedes," Kurt said turning to look at her.

Santana frowned. She had wanted that kind of reaction.

"That dress is just," Kurt's hand flew to his mouth. "You look amazing."

"Thank you, Kurt," Mercedes said, smiling big.

"What are you?" Quinn asked, turning back to the mirror.

"I'm me. Future star me." Mercedes smiled.

Santana laughed once, it sounded harsh and everyone's eyes snapped to her. She wasn't mocking, she thought it was a good idea. "It's just such a simple idea. It works." She still felt scrutinized and added. "You look good." She stepped away from the mirror and let Mercedes use her space to work. The room relaxed again.

Rachel stood next to Quinn and worked on putting her hair up into a delicate bun. "I hope Finn can figure out his costume," she mumbled to herself.

"Don't worry," Santana began crossing the bathroom to stand by Brittany's stall. Something had fallen to the floor and clattered in the stall. She could heart Brittany getting frustrated. "Finnocence has Blaine to help him figure out what a cummerbund is."

Santana saw Rachel pause in the mirror and then stop.

"Britt," Santana whispered to the stall door. "You okay?"

"Fine," Brittany said. The word was clipped as if the extra energy spared on talking to Santana could be better spent figuring out her costume.

"Lemme help," Santana said quietly.

"I got it, just one more second," Brittany said quickly.

Santana rolled her eyes and leaned against the door, waiting. Tina had finished her make up and had let Rachel move in to have full access to the mirror. "Looking...dead," Santana offered.

Tina chuckled. "Thanks, Santana. You look really nice."

Santana nodded. It felt too awkward to thank her.

"I'm going to go see if Puck and Artie managed to set up the food right," Tina said before shrugging at Santana and leaving the room.

Quinn threw a tube of lipstick into her make up bag on the counter and stepped back from the sink. She surveyed herself in the mirror and then smiled. "Dead Lady Gaga," she said, shrugging.

"I still don't know if I find your costume offense or not," Kurt muttered looking Quinn over.

"Okay," Brittany said from the stall.

Santana stepped back quickly.

Brittany stepped out, beaming. She was wearing khaki shorts, and the Hawaiian shirt she had found at Rachel's house. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing a yellow, clear visor. She had a pair of white socks on and was wearing sandals. The part that threw Santana the most though, was the toolbelt buckled around Brittany's waist. It had three plastic shovels of different sizes stuck into it, a few of the circular diving toys Santana used to love racing Brittany to the bottom of the pool to see who get the most before coming up for breath and then a bottle of sun screen.

Everyone was silent.

"Ta-da?" Brittany said slowly, pulling out the words and extending her hands.

Santana could heart Kurt and Quinn trying not to laugh and she wasn't sure if she wanted to slap them or join them. "Britt," she began, shoulders shaking slightly from the surprise laughter that was boiling in her. "What are you?"

"Isn't it obvious," Brittany said, looking around the bathroom.

Santana shook her head.

"I'm a professional sandcastle builder!" She said it with so much enthusiasm that Santana couldn't help but laugh along with Kurt and Quinn. It was gentle laughter and Brittany was smiling.

"You're so freaking adorable," Santana said, pulling Brittany close and kissing her on the cheek.

And then she seemed to freeze over, realizing what she was doing. Everyone was still looking at them. She could feel their eyes and she had kissed Brittany and said too much. She pulled away and tried her hardest not to look scared.

But she couldn't do it.

"I gotta go help," Santana said taking long strides across the bathroom and pushing herself through the swinging blue door. She walked quickly and didn't stop until she reached the choir room and distracted herself with last minute jobs.

* * *

><p>He paced his room again. He had tried so hard to make things okay. To make the feeling going away. Away from him. Scurry away like those rats had tried to. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight, thinking of the rats and the blood and how just had to hurt something.<p>

A knock on his bedroom door.

He stopped, heart pounding in his chest. He shoved the bag into his closet and wiped his face with his hands, checking the mirror above his dresser to see if he looked presentable. He stared into his eyes. Into his body. Into what he was thinking.

He slapped himself across the face.

The door opened.

"Are you okay?" His mother asked, concerned.

"Fine, getting ready," He said moving to his bed and pulling the cloak over his body. It was black.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, no, Azimio is picking me up," He said grabbing his mask off of the bed.

"Well," she said, standing in the doorway, watching him.

He stood, silent. He felt something boil in him. He wanted her to be done now. To go, leave. Leave him be so he could go.

"Are you going to see her tonight?"

His heart jumped in his chest. He hadn't remembered telling her. He had told himself he wasn't supposed to tell her about the girl. But he had disobeyed and now he was in trouble. Now he'd have to pay. He'd have to wait longer. He felt his skin crawl with anticipation.

"Who?"

"Santana, your girlfriend," she said. "You two still aren't fighting, are you?" The look of concern was back on her face. "I know that things have been hard since we had to move here..."

"I don't want to talk about that," he snapped at her, voice raising to a dangerous level that he wasn't supposed to use on anyone that wasn't _her_.

She was silent and he seemed to think she had shrunken in the door frame. "I know it's been hard, but your father and I are proud of you. We just think you shouldn't get mixed up with girls who have a lot of...things going on."

"What do you mean?" He asked, voice low.

"I've just heard some things about her being paranoid. Fake break ins..."

He felt his heart pounding so hard against his chest he was afraid it would beat right out of his ribcage. "Look, Santana's fine. We're fine. Actually, if tonight goes as planned we'll be better than ever. She won't have any problems anymore. I'm going to take care of her."

His mother smiled. "I'm proud of you," she said before standing for an awkward half second in the door and then closing it.

His smile disappeared as soon as the door shut. He stood up and walked slowly, looking at himself in the mirror. His mouth curled up and he showed his teeth. He slipped the Ghostface mask onto his head and left grabbing his bag out of the closet.

* * *

><p>Everyone was in the choir room, getting into position. The festival started at seven, it was only ten til.<p>

Mr. Schue was waiting outside to take tickets. He had just finished giving a pep talk but no one had taken him seriously considering he had decided to dress as Superman to match Ms. Pillsbury Wonderwoman costume.

The guys costumes hadn't disappointed.

Finn had managed to get his costume on right (with the help of Blaine) and Rachel was extremely disappointed when he covered it with a black cloak and slipped on his Ghostface mask. Puck had dressed like Tom Cruise from _Risky Business_ but the effect hadn't lasted when Mr. Schue had told him to put pants on. Mike seemed to blend in with the classroom considering he was wearing all black for his ninja outfit and Artie had gone all out as a mad scientist and Brittany found him a little scary. She whispered to Santana that he reminded her too much of his zombie outfit from their halftime thriller number. Blaine was talking in a horrible Chicago accent, adding that he wanted to eat brains at the end of every sentence and Kurt kept looking away, shrugging, but Santana could see the smile in his eyes.

All in all, it was a good group and Santana felt...what? Excited, happy, proud? to be a part of it. Maybe just a little.

And then it was time for the show and Santana felt like she was about to go on stage.

She crawled carefully onto the table. The white cloth with the blood spatters glowed eerily from the strobe light and black lights. Finn acted as rehearsed, slashing his knife at Santana along with the sound effects. Children screamed with fear and delight. Santana caught sight of Quinn convulsing on her harness and couldn't help but smirk. She knew Quinn loved this just as much as everyone. Maybe more than most.

Santana could hear Rachel leading the children through the dark room. She let out a small scream as Finn slashed the knife over her, spraying fake blood onto the floor in front of the children who screamed, really screamed. Luckily, Santana's shaking from laughter fit right into her part.

It was fun. Regardless of how much Santana didn't want to admit it, she was having fun. Soon though, it was time to switch. Santana crawled off the table and watched as Kurt crawled on, grimacing at the blood. He looked eery in the black lights and Blaine looked like he was getting too into character.

Finn pulled off his Ghostface mask, face shiny and hair mussed. He handed it to Blaine and pulled the cloak off. "Santana," he began. He was looking around the dark room. "Did you see if I put my cell phone down earlier when we were working?"

Santana shook her head, but wasn't sure if he could see her in the darkness. "Nope, sorry." Finn frowned and Santana left him. She moved across the room to Brittany and linked her pinkie in her own. She had completely forgotten about her slip up in the bathroom earlier in all of the excitement.

"Wanna go exploring with me?" Santana asked quietly by Brittany's ear.

She nodded and they left the room.

* * *

><p>Santana was surprised to see how many people had actually showed up to support McKinley. They roamed the halls, looking at all the people, stopping to see what each open classroom had planned. Some rooms were haunted houses, some rooms had mini-games.<p>

Brittany saw one girl, dressed as a witch, eating a giant soft pretzel and stopped her, asking where she got it. "Santana," Brittany said, voice serious.

"What?" Santana asked slowly.

"They're selling giant pretzels in the gym." Her voice was serious.

Santana studied Brittany's face for a long time. "Well lets go get one."

Brittany smiled and laced their hands together, pulling her through the crowd. Santana would have protested any other day but there was something about the smile on Brittany's face that made her push the anxiety down. Plus, the halls were crowded and no one was paying attention.

The gym was full of vendors. There were pretzels, pop, hot dogs and corn dogs, a table full of desserts and raffles for prizes. Santana was surprised the staff had put so much together and even more surprised Coach Sylvester was allowing this in her gym.

They waited in line for a few minutes. Brittany ordered a garlic Parmesan pretzel and Santana wrinkled her nose. "Trust me, San," Brittany said.

Santana smiled gently and pulled some money out of her cleavage, insisting the guy behind the makeshift counter keep the quarters. Brittany pulled a piece of the pretzel off and popped it in her mouth, sighing. "I coulda got it," she said between bites.

"It's cool, you'll just owe me," Santana joked, bumping her hip lightly against Brittany's.

Brittany smiled around her piece of pretzel. She pulled off another piece. "Here, try," Brittany said, swallowing.

"Garlic pretzel?" Santana said staring at the small piece of soft pretzel, it was dripping slightly with butter.

"Trust me," Brittany repeated.

Santana looked around. People were milling about, a witch, a werewolf, another Ghostface mask. Everyone was eating their own food, laughing, waiting in line, keeping their kids in check. She grabbed Brittany's hand and held it still as she leaned forward, smiling slightly and opened her mouth, swallowing the piece and the tips of Brittany's fingers into her mouth. Brittany let go of the pieces and Santana pulled back, sucking on her pointer finger. She moved quickly, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She chewed the bite, smirking at Brittany who looked suddenly flushed.

She swallowed. "You okay?"

Brittany nodded.

"You're right, Britt,"Santana said lips curling up wickedly. "That was good." Santana ripped another piece off the pretzel, popped into her mouth and grabbed Brittany's hand, pulling her out of the crowded gym and back into the halls.

Brittany regained herself quickly, though. She pointed out a few classrooms that looked interesting but didn't want to go in until the pretzel was finished. Santana pulled the last curve of the pretzel out of the wrap in Brittany's hand and split it in half, shoving her last piece into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. They stopped by a water fountain and Santana drank for what felt like a year. The pretzel had made her so thirsty.

"So, B," Santana said wiping her mouth carefully. "Where to?"

Brittany looked around and then pulled Brittany towards a a classroom that had very few people waiting outside. Screams had been coming from it all night and Brittany loved Halloween. They stood in line. It was awkward, waiting against the wall so that people could get out of the classroom through the same door they came in. The waiting went fast, most people didn't seem to want to stay in the room.

Brittany was bouncing on her feet next to Santana who could feel her excitement coming off of her like heat. When it was their turn Brittany pulled two tickets out of her pocket, tickets Mr. Schue had given them as a reward for their hard work, and handed them to the teacher standing by the door.

Then they went inside, pushing the heavy black curtain out of the way.

The room was dark. "San?" Brittany whispered from close beside her. She felt a hand on her arm then her side and reached up, lacing her fingers in Brittany who gripped tightly.

"It's cool," Santana said, moving forward slowly. She shuffled her feet, afraid of bumping into something and falling over.

A strobe light started on one side of the room, Santana jumped and looked away. Another light started on the opposite end of the room.

Something moved but got caught in the light and Santana jumped back, pulling Brittany with her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned quickly, a demon, a mask, jerking in the light, pressing near her. She felt her breath catch in her throat and knew she shouldn't be scared.

Then it was gone.

Brittany screamed beside her and Santana felt her hand slip away. She turned and caught another demon, another _mask_, pulling at Brittany.

Flash. Terrified Brittany and demon.

Flash. Just Brittany, scared.

Flash. No Brittany, just dark.

Flash. She turned.

Flash. She turned again.

Someone screamed and she felt a hand on her wrist. Santana screamed and pulled back but the hand was insistent and she felt a warm body against her own.

"Brittany," Santana whispered wrapping herself around the girl.

"Let's go, San," Brittany whispered pulling her towards the black heavy curtain.

They stumbled into the bright hallway. The person who had took their ticket smiled at them and Santana ignored them, walking away from the room. She was still clutching onto Brittany's hand, pressed close to her. She tried to calm her nerves. It was just stupid people at this stupid school. She felt dizzy, disoriented, Brittany was the only thing anchoring her down.

She ran headlong into another person. She bounced off of them and felt a strong grip on her wrist, keeping her from tripping. Brittany had kept walking, wanting to distance herself from the room. Santana watched her turn around a few paces ahead in the crowd. People milled between them. It was like wading through water.

"Sorry," Santana said, regaining her balance. "I got it."

He still held onto her wrist. She looked up, he had a Ghostface mask on. The same outfit as Finn, almost exactly the same. "I got it," she repeated, snapping and pulling her wrist free. "Jerk," she mumbled shuffling through the crowd to get to Brittany.

She felt like she just needed to get somewhere calm. There was too much going on and her skin was prickling. Prickling like there were eyes on her. "Let's get back," she whispered to Brittany who nodded, leading the way through the crowed, hand in Santana's.

Santana looked over her shoulder. The Ghostface stranger was watching her go, standing still in a sea of people. She turned the corner and lost sight of him.

Brittany navigated the crowd like she was swimming, like they were underwater. She didn't shove, she slipped around, placed a delicate hand on someone to move around them. She stopped though when the crowd got thick.

Santana felt like her brain was still in the hallway. As if she had dropped it and forgotten to pick it up when she had bumped into the stranger. "Why aren't we moving?" She asked looking at the complete standstill of people.

"Everyone calm down," she could hear Figgins calling over the group of people. "It's just a silly prank, go back to the fair."

Santana turned to look at Brittany who shrugged, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Santana was silent for a moment and then she began pushing through the throng of people. She moved quickly, needing to see what was there, something gripping at her to go look. She felt Brittany moving behind her, following, unsure of what was happening.

She managed to break through the ring that had formed around Figgins and a janitor.

In the middle of the floor was a pile of rats. They were dead. They were bloody, oozing, their organs showing through the slits all through their bodies.

Santana felt all of the blood drain out of her body. She was instantly weak. Instantly terrified. She turned and shoved her way through the crowd, running away.

"Santana," Brittany called running after her.

* * *

><p>Santana rounded a corner. She was in an empty hallway, one that wasn't a part of the haunted festival. She was pacing. Brittany ran around the corner and passed her. She slowed to a trot and turned around, jogging to Santana and stopping, watching her pace.<p>

"What?" She asked, voice small.

"What do you mean, what?" Santana said quickly. She was trying hard not to snap but she felt herself shaking.

"It's just a joke," Brittany said.

"It's not, Britt," Santana said, voice breaking slightly. "He's here. I know he's here. He's going to..." She didn't know what he was going to do but she knew he was going to do something to her. She knew it was a sign. There were always signs and she was starting to understand him.

"I'm here too, though," Brittany said stepping closer to Santana and stopping her pacing.

"He's trying to hurt me and I'm...I'm terrified," Santana said, voice strained.

"Santana, it's going to be okay," Brittany said gently.

Santana stopped. She wrapped her arms around Brittany and tried to soak the girl up. Tried to melt into her. Tried to see if she could steal away some of Brittany's faith in the world, faith that things would go right because... well, they just couldn't not go right.

She stepped back. "I know he's here."

Brittany didn't say anything. She opened her mouth and closed it. Santana waited.

Brittany cried out, jumping slightly as if someone had grabbed her from behind. Santana jumped and yelled, startled.

"What?" Santana snapped, glancing around the hallway.

"Sorry," Brittany said, reaching a shaking hand into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "It scared me."

Santana rolled her eyes and began pacing. "Who is it?"

"Kurt, it's our turn again."

Santana stopped pacing and closed her eyes. She didn't want to go back to the stupid haunted house. She didn't want to get pretend massacred. She wanted to go lock herself in her safe house and snuggle into Brittany until there was no more dark outside.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Well, here it is, 12/13. This is one of my favorite chapters, mainly due to the fact that so much goes down. I hope you like it, I enjoyed writing it! I know it's short, but I promise 13 won't disappoint. Your guesses make me laugh.

The only reason that this may seem rushed is because I have a Christmas story that I want to start soon. Also, I just want to post these chapter so much. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

"It's going to be okay, San," Brittany whispered as they made their way through the crowd of people.

Santana nodded. She wasn't entirely listening, she was watching, waiting, looking for any sign of something about to go wrong. She knew deep in her bones that he was here. That something big was going to happen. That had been her last warning, the rats. They were opened up and bloody. Before they had just been dead. He wasn't keeping quiet anymore.

She stopped outside of the choir room and Brittany stopped beside her. Santana turned and looked Brittany over. Her face, her hair, her pink lips and blue eyes. "I love you," she said and meant it. She tried to put all of her feelings there, in those words, make Brittany feel them.

Brittany's face flashed to confusion for a half second before smiling and saying, "I love you, too."

Santana nodded and turned to walk into the classroom.

"San?"

She stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Why do I feel like you're saying goodbye?"

* * *

><p>Santana pulled herself onto the slab. The fabric held firm. She rolled her eyes, thinking she would have to tell Finn that he did an okay job, even though she had fussed at his efforts.<p>

Finn approached the table, Ghostface mask on, fake knife in hand and stood over Santana just as a new group was being ushered in by Mr. Schue.

"Finally, I'm having a crappy night, so try to make this look good," Santana mumbled just loud enough for Finn to hear over the sound effects playing through the room.

He nodded.

Santana turned her head to watch Brittany. A small child was reaching into a covered bowl, gasping at what they felt inside and pulling their hand out, scared. Santana saw Brittany smiling and couldn't help the smile that spread on her face. Brittany was so good with kids, it was something Santana appreciated abo-

A sharp sting. Her head jerked around to look. There was a small line of red on her arm. "What the fuck?" Her eyes widened and she glanced up at Finn.

The knife flashed across her cheek and her hands flew up to grasp at it, she pulled her hand away and looked at the red stained there, could feel it sliding down her cheek, hot.

"Scream and I'll kill you," Finn said standing over her.

Santana's eyes widened. "You? Finn?" She whispered unsure and afraid.

"Guess again," he said trailing the knife down her arm, cutting into her skin. Santana squirmed and moaned in pain. It stung and she could feel the blood dripping.

Santana opened her mouth to scream. He raked the knife harshly across her arm again and her breath caught in her throat.

"Fine. Scream and I'll kill her," he leaned down and growled into her ear.

Santana knew who he was talking about. Her eyes darted over to Brittany who was watching the kids progress through the haunted house, the kids who were now at Quinn and would soon be at her.

She nodded.

"Good," he said. "Now play your part."

When the kids approached Santana writhed in actual pain on the table. She hoped the parents would take the hint and not just think she was a good actress. She hoped someone would get it. Brittany, Brittany, please.

When the kids exited the room another group was being ushered in before Santana has any time to react. She felt the blade traveling down her right arm, cutting into her skin. She tried to hold her breathing steady but her body moved on its own.

"Now get off the table," he whispered.

"What?" She whispered back, panting.

"Get off the fucking table," he said, teeth grinding together.

Santana sat up and stood. The figure walked around the table and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly to against him. Her body didn't respond well. She felt like it was still back on the table trying to figure out what was happening.

She could hear Puck whispering to her, asking what the hell they thought they were doing but no one else really noticed. Santana didn't even notice him. The knife digging into her back kept her focused on moving, the stranger behind her, breathing heavily.

He pushed her roughly from the room and Santana saw an opportunity to make noise. Surely in this hallway full of crowded people someone would help her. She felt the knife dig into her back, ripping through the fabric of her dress and ripping into her skin. She inhaled sharply.

"Scream and I will fucking slit your throat," he said in her ear, breath hot on her face and making her feel dizzy.

He pushed her through the crowd. No one spared them a look. It was too crowded, people were moving from room to room having too much fun. He led her away from the crowds, through the halls.

Into the auditorium.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, voice at a normal level. They were away from anyone who could hear them now. She heard the sound of the festival echoing in the halls behind her.

"What do you think?" He shoved her into the auditorium door and Santana held on tight, trying to remain upright. He shoved her in the back, hard, using her body to push the door open.

She stumbled inside. It was dark except for the small lights on the floor beside the seats and the light from the open doorway. He stood in the doorway. Santana felt frozen, like someone had reached into her chest and was holding her in place by holding onto her heart. It was pounding wildly, trying to break free, trying to get her to _fucking move_.

And she did.

She bolted down the stairs, away from the stranger she knew wanted to kill her. Who had a knife and who had anger. She could hear his steps pounding behind her. Could hear him breathing rough, growling. He was excited.

Santana reached the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the stage. She pulled herself onto the lip. She felt a hand on her ankle and screamed. She kicked out, feeling her foot make contact with something. She screamed again as the knife sliced viciously into her skin, stinging worse than the other cuts. She managed to stand on the stage, but she could hear him crawling up behind her.

She stood on the stage and a thought struck her. She bent over and quickly pulled off her heels, they were too noisy and it was too hard to run in them. She turned around and threw them.

"Fuck," she said, throwing one heel that zipped past the strangers head. "You!" she bellowed as she launched the other one with all the strength she could find. She barely saw it make contact, the lights on the floor illuminating just enough for her.

She couldn't see anything as she ran towards the curtain, though. She found the split easy enough and disappeared backstage. Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest she felt dizzy. Her goal was to hide. She knew this stage, he didn't. She had an advantage. He wasn't going to get her. He couldn't.

Santana stopped for a second, breathing hard. She could hear the stranger crawling onto the stage. She ran forward a few paces and tripped over something, hard. The impact was epic. She smacked so hard into the floor she could have sworn her body bounced off of the hard tile. Her head was ringing and her left leg was throbbing. She forced herself up and moved slowly forward, trying to find anywhere to hide. She forgot that other classrooms had been using the backstage area as storage.

Her eyes were adjusting and she could just make out a table shoved against a back wall. She limped quickly to it, wincing every time she had to put weight on her left foot. She dove under the table and huddled against the wall.

She could hear him fighting with curtain, yelling in frustration, unable to find the split as easily as she had. Then a ruffle of fabric and he was backstage. It was silent. He was moving around. He was being slow, meticulous. Searching for her.

Santana closed her eyes tight and tried to keep her breathing under control. Tried not to let the pain escape her lips and give away her position.

"Come out, come out," he said, voice sing-songing in a way that made Santana's skin crawl.

She held her breath as she heard his footsteps near her hiding spot.

"Fine," he said, moving away from her table. "Fine," his voice was louder. "I'll tear this place apart until I find you and then I'll kill you. And I'll cut you. And I'll tear you to pieces. And I'll make you suffer."

Santana jumped as she heard a crashing noise coming from her distant right. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her skin crawling, her body shaking, slightly, as if she was cold. Another crash, this one closer. Her heart was beating hard against her ribcage.

She closed her eyes tight. "You can do this," she whispered, trying to muster the courage.

Santana very carefully crawled out from under the table. She could hear him pushing over a table close by. He yelled in frustration and she flinched. She used the table to pull herself upright and began to hobble forward. Her ankle was throbbing and she felt spent. She moved as quietly as she could and flinched when she heard something metal crash onto the floor.

She turned to look and see if he had noticed her. His back was turned, or at least, it looked like his back was turned, the way his body was moving in the dark. She could just barely make out his figure.

"Ugh," she said. She had run into another table. It wobbled. Santana held onto it and stopped, eyes wide, heart pounding as the adrenaline coursed through her body. There was another bang as something was shoved out of the figures way.

Santana sighed, he hadn't heard her. She stood herself up right, balancing on her right leg. Then she saw it, on the edge of the table. A stack of textbooks, teetering uncertainly. Santana held her breath. She was afraid if she moved it would make them fall faster and maybe, just maybe if she was lucky they wouldn't slip...

_Thud_

They crashed to the floor.

Santana whirled her head around and saw the figure turn towards her in the darkness.

* * *

><p>"What is this?" The kid asked, her hand squelching around in the spaghetti.<p>

"Rat intestines," Brittany said in a dark whisper, holding her hands up and wiggling her fingers.

"Gross," she replied, retracting her hand.

"I know, right?" Brittany agreed.

"What about this one?"

"Oh that one," Brittany said, moving down the table to stand in front of another bowl. "That one is eyeballs."

The girls eyes widened slightly. The small group of children huddled closer together. "Where did you get eyeballs?"

Brittany's mouth turned upward slightly, showing her teeth. "I got 'em myself." She kept her voice serious and stared at the girls.

They retreated from the table quickly, moving towards Quinn and Puck. Brittany watched and grinned. She loved Halloween. What wasn't there to love? Costumes, candy, getting scared, it was the perfect holiday. The only thing that could make it better would be to get presents, but that's why there was Christmas.

Brittany's eyes moved from the group of kids, staring in horror at Quinn to the slab where Santana...

Where Santana was supposed to be lying down. She wasn't there, though. Neither was Finn.

Something was off.

Brittany wasn't sure what it was, but something was off. When the group of kids stared at the empty slab and looked at each other, confused, then left the room Brittany walked away from her table. She stopped by Quinn and Puck.

"Where's Santana?" She asked, head slightly cocked.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked swiveling around awkwardly in her harness to look at the empty slab.

"They left, like, I dunno, five minutes ago?" Puck said. He stood up and looked from Quinn to Brittany. "I tried asking 'em what they were doing but they just left."

"What?" Brittany was thinking hard. She didn't know why Santana would leave with Finn, what they were doing together. It was off. That was all she could feel, was off. Not right. Like a painting slightly tilted to the right.

"Where are Finn and Santana?" It was Rachel. She had stomped over to the group. "This pow-wow is really messing up my guiding."

"I dunno, they left," Puck said pointing towards the slab.

"What? Why would they leave together?" Rachel asked, face contorted in mild disgust.

Brittany didn't say anything. She knew something was wrong. She just couldn't figure out what. Why would she go to Finn and not her? None of it made sense.

"Hey, guys? How come no one told me it was my turn at the slab?" Finn asked stepping into the choir room. He was dressed in his Beast costume, brow furrowed.

"Aren't you with Santana?" Puck asked, looking from the slab to Finn.

"No, I've been wandering around, waiting for a call when I remembered I lost my phone. I just got back," Finn said slowly.

Brittany's heart seemed to seize in her chest, she gasped. "Oh my god, Santana." It clicked, it all fell into place, like she had just realized she was trying to put the last puzzle piece into the puzzle at the wrong angle.

"But Kurt called you...what?" Puck stopped. "What about Santana?"

"What's going on?" Mr. Schue asked stepping into the classroom.

"Look, if we're done, can I get down from here?" Quinn said, jostling her harness.

It was too much going on at once. Brittany felt overwhelmed. She couldn't explain it in time for them to understand. She couldn't make them understand fast enough.

"Santana is in danger," she said, turning to Mr. Schue.

He stared at her, mouth slightly open. "Brittany, I..."

She felt tears of frustration in the corner of her eyes and pulled her visor off of her head, throwing it to the ground. "Santana is in danger and if we don't find her she could _die_."

She watched his face stall. She turned away from him, frustrated. "Fuck, trust me. I have to find her. _I have to find her._" Brittany could feel goosebumps on her skin and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She turned to see Finn and Puck helping Quin off of her harness.

"Please help me find her," she said to Rachel.

"Okay, yes, okay," Rachel said eyes wide. She was listening. Brittany knew she would listen. "We'll find her."

Brittany nodded. "You take the east wing, I'm gonna go check around towards the auditorium."

"We'll go with you," Puck said as Quinn was firmly on the ground.

"I'll call you if we find her," Rachel said, grabbing Finn's hand and leaving the choir room.

Brittany ran out the door, Puck and Quinn in tow, surprised at her fervor. She had to find Santana. It rang through her head. She had to find Santana. There was no other alternative and she couldn't imagine a life where she _couldn't_ find Santana.

* * *

><p>As soon as the figure had turned, Santana launched herself back into action. She moved quickly, grabbing onto tables and chairs, trying to wade through the maze of items without falling again. She knew that if she fell getting up would be harder and he was getting closer.<p>

She could hear him barreling through anything in his way, shoving it aside and yelling in frustration.

She stumbled over something in the floor and fell to her knees. "Shit, shit, shit. _Shit. Shit._" She said as she scrambled to her feet.

She felt a hand tangle itself in her hair and she screamed. It ripped through her throat and scared her more than the feeling of being pulled backwards. She twisted, painfully, and kneed the stranger in the groin. He bent double, relaxing his grip on her and she pulled away. She cried out again as she felt his grip tighten slightly as he realized she was making an escape and pulled a small chunk of hair from her head. It stung, just like everything else about her, but she could barely feel anything except the adrenaline and the need to survive.

She managed to stand and turn away from the figure. She saw him raise the knife and felt the blade run along her side, cutting through the fabric of her dress and deep into her. Santana cried out and flung herself forward, away from him. She managed to stay upright, but her ankle was screaming with the weight she was putting on it. She looked back and saw him getting to his feet.

She ran forward, limping, cuts stinging, ankle throbbing. She found the split in the curtain and pushed through it. She ran until there was nothing underneath her. She felt herself hit the floor of the auditorium hard. She had run right off the stage.

She felt the hot tears rolling down her face and could do nothing to stop them. She was shaking hard and ached all over. The adrenaline wearing off and turning into pure shock, pure terror. She heard shuffling behind her and crawled forward. She grabbed onto one of the chairs and used it to pull herself upright. She grabbed the chair behind it and used the aisle seats as crutches to move away from the stage.

He yelled in frustration behind her, finally finding the split in the curtain.

Santana was halfway there.

She could hear his feet pounding as he ran across the stage.

She was pulling herself up the stairs. There were no more chairs and every time she put pressure on her ankle she was sure it was going to give out. She was so close, she wasn't going to look back. Not now.

Then, there. She was pushing against the door, shoving it open and tumbling through it into the bright hallway.

It burned her eyes but she pushed herself through and felt herself hit the floor again, hard. She knew she couldn't stand, knew she was too weak, too hurt. She crawled forward, away from the auditorium door, terrified he would reach through and pull her back in. Drag her into the darkness with him.

"Santana? Santana?" She heard the voices from down the hall.

"Brittany! Brittany," she screamed. Her throat felt raw.

She continued to crawl away, but she didn't hear the auditorium door opening. She heard it shut and click in place.

And then she was alone on the cold tile floor, shivering, bleeding and terrified.

* * *

><p>"Santana? Santana?" Brittany yelled as she ran. She had been yelling it over and over again, ignoring the annoyed look on the faces of the passersby in the hallway. She had wanted to find Santana. Had needed to find her more than anything. It was life or death. It was everything.<p>

Brittany's chest tightened when she heard the reply.

A voice, strained, hoarse, calling for her.

Brittany ran to the voice, heart pounding in her ears. She turned a corner and saw Santana outside of the auditorium, lying on the floor, bloodied, beaten, broken.

* * *

><p>"Brittany," Santana said softly when she saw her round the corner. She saw Puck and Quinn close behind her and for once felt so happy to see them. So relieved.<p>

"Oh my god," she heard Quinn gasp, but she wasn't really paying attention to anyone but Brittany.

Brittany had knelt beside Santana and was hovering her hands just over her body, like she had done to Lord Tubbington. Like if she touched her she would do more damamge.

"Oh San," Brittany said softly. Santana could see the tears forming in her eyes.

"B-Britt," she gasped. Her voice shaking along with the rest of her. She pushed herself onto her hands, trying to sit up. "He's in there. Oh god, he w-was in."

"Fuck, Lopez," Puck whispered, kneeling beside Brittany.

Santana looked from Brittany to Puck and up to Quinn who was standing away from the group, talking on her phone. Her face was serious.

"I'm going in there," Puck said, standing up, face set in anger.

"No, god, Puck, p-please," Santana cried through her tears. She managed to grope the hem of his pants and hang on. "Please don't go in there he has a knife and h-he'll hurt you. I don't want him to h-hurt you."

Pucks face softened and he knelt back down. "I won't go."

Brittany pulled Santana close to her, holding her, rocking her gently and whispering into her ear. Santana curled into Brittany, like she had a million times before, not caring if Puck and Quinn saw. She didn't care. She needed Brittany now more than ever. She needed to feel safe.

She knew she was covered in blood and knew that it was getting all over Brittany, but Brittany didn't seem to care. Her breathing was out of control, catching in her throat and choking out in half sobs as she leaned into Brittany. She held Santana tight against her until Mr. Schue arrived with Principal Figgins.

Brittany continued to talk to her while they waited for the police to arrive. She told Santana she didn't have to say anything to anyone until the police got there and Santana was grateful for that more anything. She wanted to just stay with Brittany, the only thing in the world that could make her feel safe.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: **Well, I'm a little sad to hear that I disappointed some of you guys with the last chapter. But that's alright, I still gotta say thank you for all of the reviews, I appreciate the feedback. I want to extend a special thank you to the following reviewers: IrishSunrise, I'm a Dumbadosis, Addie rocks, theangryscientist205, Ondjage, pleasegirldontyoudieonme, CdnGirl01, CamyGalvao, riverkirby, and probably a lot of others that I don't remember. I have loved your thoughts, predictions and feedback. It's been fantastic and I'm glad I've been able to entertain you.

Also, a special thanks to Blackshield who is always available for some last minute inspiration and decision making.

I'd like to take this time to shamelessly promote my new story, [Fighting for Nothing]. The first chapter was posted today. It started out as a Christmas story but now it's a Brittana story with Christmas in it. You should totally check it out.

This is my first fanfic that I've completed and I'm glad it's gone over well. Thanks again, enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

It was a hard night for everyone.

An ambulance arrived and Santana found she was being forced into it. Forced away from Brittany. Forced to move, to stand, to be expected to respond to questions, to talk. It was too much. It was what everyone else wanted from her and Santana didn't want to do anything but curl into Brittany until the stinging stopped.

"San," the paramedic stopped and glanced at Brittany. "Santana, right?" Brittany nodded. "Santana, I need you to talk to me. I need you to look at me."

Santana kept her eyes glued to Brittany, her face, her eyes, her hair, her lips. Every little piece of her face that Santana could look at. Her ears, her eyebrows, her nose, her chin. For so long Santana had felt like Brittany was the only thing keeping her grounded, was an anchor in this sea of inner and outer turmoil. But now? Now she really was all that was keeping her from what? Santana couldn't explain what it was but she felt like he had finally won. She felt herself slipping away. He had hurt her and she felt trapped in her own head. She was aware of everything going on around her but she couldn't respond. Couldn't bring herself to look away from Brittany or let go of her hands.

"San?" Brittany asked it quietly, tilting her head down.

Santana's eyes followed her closely.

"Santana, talk to me please." Brittany was openly begging. Openly pleading for Santana to respond in any way.

Santana felt the words on her tongue but couldn't open her mouth. Couldn't respond.

The ambulance continued to make it's way through Lima.

"What's the matter with her?" Brittany said quietly, looking to the paramedic then back to Santana.

The paramedic shook her head. "She's almost catatonic."

* * *

><p>The hospital had seemed so busy around Santana. People continued to ask her questions and thankfully Brittany was allowed to come with her into the ER. Santana couldn't let go of Brittany's hand anyway so she didn't really feel like there had been any other option.<p>

A doctor kept reassuring her that she was fine and would only need stitches on her leg and side.

Santana only nodded, keeping her eyes down. She still felt trapped in her own body, the only thing keeping her from slipping away entirely was Brittany. Santana squeezed her hand, Brittany squeezed back.

The curtain separating Santana, Brittany, and the nurse stitching her up from the rest of the ER was pulled back, hard, almost ripping it off of it's hooks. Santana's whole body jumped, causing the nurse to jump, which caused a very uncomfortable pull on Santana's stitches.

She felt the fear pulsing through her again, like he had found her here, like he was here again. She gripped Brittany's hand tightly and wanted to curl into her and hide. Then she saw it wasn't him at all. It was her father. He looked wearied, tired, older and Santana noticed the gray that had started peppering his hair more than she had before.

They held eye contact for what felt like eternity but was really only a few seconds before he was pulling her close and holding her so tight, Santana felt like she couldn't breath. She held onto her dad with her free hand, still unable to let go of Brittany.

He shooed the nurse away and took over finishing Santana's stitches.

"Tell me what happened, tell me everything," Dr. Lopez said as he worked gently, meticulously, like he had a million times before.

Santana just stared down at her leg, at his work.

"She isn't talking," Brittany said quietly. Santana could feel her eyes boring into her temple but she couldn't look away.

Dr. Lopez said nothing, but continued working, carefully. "She will," he said gently.

Santana sighed. She knew she would have to talk. She had to tell the police what happened. They had come with her to the ER, asking questions. The doctors had told them over and over again that she needed medical attention first but Santana knew that she couldn't play that card forever.

"I wanna talk to Officer Simpson," Santana said after a few more moments of silence.

Dr. Lopez looked up from his stitching and let his eyes dart across Santana's face. She felt scrutinized but was unphased, all of her energy was directed towards holding Brittany's hand. It was all she felt like she could manage. She watched as her father glanced down at their interlocked hands.

"I'm almost done," he said, focusing back down on the stitches.

* * *

><p>The next morning, the night before had seemed like a blur or multiple days because so much had happened. Had the haunted house, the attack, stitches and finally telling Officer Simpson everything happened in just one day? One day. Halloween.<p>

Santana shook her head slightly, as if she couldn't believe it. It had all seemed to happen so fast and so long ago. It was blurry, like a distant memory or a hangover. She winced as she sat up in bed. It was Thursday morning. She had been instructed to take the rest of the week off but something inside of her was restless. Santana had enjoyed lounging around on Wednesday, sleeping in late, waking up to her father making breakfast for her, something he hadn't done in years, and then spending the day on the couch eating junk food and watching crappy movies.

But she had spent a lot of time thinking. It was a weird situation for Santana. Last night felt like it hadn't even happened. But it had happened. It was reality. Her reality. It had all hit her Wednesday night. Brittany had come over. Santana had spent all day texting Brittany at school and even getting a surprise phone call during lunch. She had wanted Brittany there desperately, she needed a distraction.

To Santana's great surprise Brittany had swung by after school. Her father had answered the door, Santana finding even the idea of getting off of the couch too much work. She felt her face burst into a smile as soon as Brittany entered the room, dressed in her Cheerios uniform.

"What are you doing here?" Santana said, voice higher pitched than normal. She couldn't contain her excitement even though her dad was right there, watching their exchange.

"I came to see you, silly," Brittany said flopping down onto the couch next to Santana.

"What about Cheerios?"

Brittany shrugged. "Much more important things going here," she said grabbing an Oreo out of the box on the coffee table and looking at the TV. She took a bite of the cookie. "What are we watching?"

Santana continued to stare at Brittany's profile.

"What?"

Santana shook her head. "I'm so glad you're here."

Brittany took another bite from the Oreo and smiled, lips closed. "Where else would I be?"

It had been exactly what Santana needed. Her father left them alone to watch movies and laugh and talk. Brittany told Santana about her day, about how things had been 'mega boring' without Santana around. She told her about Glee club and how everyone was worried about her, how they hoped she was doing and felt better soon and how they missed her. Santana had frowned at that, she was pretty sure no one was really that worried, but Brittany insisted.

"But there's no rush for you to come back," Brittany said.

"You don't want me back?" Santana asked it as a joke.

Brittany's face became serious. "Of course I do. I just want you to get better."

"I'm fine, Britt, I'll be ready for school in no time," Santana said, shrugging.

"Santana, you can't just be fine all the time," Brittany said sitting up straighter on the couch. She turned to look at Santana.

"Yes, I can," Santana said, turning herself towards Brittany too. She felt herself becoming aggressive. Like she was being accused of something and needed to fight back.

"Santana," Brittany paused, mouth open. "You can't just keep locking everything up because it might be hard or scary to deal with."

Santana's eyebrows furrowed. She crossed her arms and stared at Brittany through narrowed vision. The words cut into her in a way she hadn't been expecting. She felt attacked and put on the spot and Brittany had rarely done that. She knew what Brittany was telling her.

"I don't lock things up, okay? I just handle them differently," Santana said, shrugging one shoulder and turning to face the television screen again.

"No, Santana. It's okay for this to make you feel scared or whatever."

"Just stop," Santana said, voice quiet.

"San, please, if you just talk about it," Brittany began but Santana cut her off.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay? I just want to watch shitty movies and sit here and wallow. I don't want to think about what he did to me or what happened because then..." She stopped, mouth open, breaths deep.

"Because what?"

Santana shook her head and turned her head away from Brittany's. She felt the tears prickling at her eyes before they came and she would be damned if she was going to cry over this.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Brittany squeezed her gently. "Because what?"

Santana turned to look at Brittany. She closed her eyes hard and felt tears sliding softly down her cheeks. She didn't want to face this, she didn't think it was fair she had to after everything she had endured, after everything she had been through. "Because," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Because then it's real." She kept her eyes down, looking at the blanket spread over her lap and Brittany's.

"But it was real," Brittany said softly, leaning close to Santana.

Santana shook her head again and blinked a few times, trying to quell the tears. She felt Brittany's hand on her face. "Don't, just cry, okay? It's okay to just cry."

She continued to look down and felt a small sob build in her throat and shake her chest. She felt breathless and tried to calm her breathing, calm her tears. Brittany kept her hand on Santana's face, stroking underneath her eye gently with the pad of her thumb.

They stayed, as if frozen in their own world. Brittany leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Santana's, humming softly. After what felt like hours, Santana felt her breathing become even again. She reached up and held Brittany's hand against her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered just loud enough for Brittany to hear.

Brittany nodded against Santana's forehead. "Anything for my girl," she said softly, grinning.

Santana let her eyes flicker across Brittany's face, down to her lips, up to her eyes. "You are so good."

If she just moved in a bit closer...

"Santana?" Her dad walked into the living room, holding his phone in hand, he was looking down at the screen.

Santana pushed herself away from Brittany quickly, too quickly. She winced and audibly hissed. Her heart was pounding, head racing. What had he seen? She gripped her side and looked up at her father who was staring at her, silent and then to Brittany who had lost all facial expression.

"You girls...hungry? I was thinking pizza," Dr. Lopez said slowly. Santana saw his eyes moving from her to Brittany, it made her feel uneasy, like she was off balance.

"I'm fine," Brittany replied, voice flat.

Santana looked to Brittany who had turned back towards the television, arms crossed. "Me too, eaten too much today, anyway," she said. She was surprised how hoarse her voice sounded.

"Right," he said looking down to his phone, at the television, back to Santana. "Right." He walked out of the room.

When Santana heard him close his office door she looked at Brittany. "I panicked," she said quickly.

"It doesn't matter," Brittany said, still looking at the television.

"No, it does, it matters," Santana said quickly, scooting back closer to Brittany.

Brittany shook her head. "It's fine, let's just watch, okay?"

"Britt, please," Santana said softly. She could feel her face falling, the way it did when she felt like she was about to cry.

"Look, you gotta deal with one thing at a time, okay and I have to deal with that," Brittany said turning to look at her.

It was a free pass and Santana knew it. She would have jumped on it weeks ago but now, it just felt like she was stealing, like she hadn't earned it at all. She wanted to do something for Brittany. Brittany had been doing so much for her.

"It's fine," Brittany said gently, lifting her arm and putting around Santana, pulling her close. "Let's watch."

Santana nodded and pressed play on the remote.

They spent the rest of the movie in silence and when it ended Brittany said she had to leave, claiming she had homework. Santana knew that whatever homework it was Brittany would have usually stayed and asked for help but she kept silent, knowing Brittany needed time alone.

Santana had spent the rest of the night moping around the house. She put in another movie after Brittany left but ended up falling asleep. She woke up at around two in the morning to find another blanket covering her up and the television off. She limped her way upstairs and crawled into the guest bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>She had taken a day off to recover but she couldn't let the student body see her being weak. She was still Santana Lopez.<p>

But she was so tired.

But no, she had to go back. She couldn't be kept down and she wouldn't let him think he had won.

It was easy to think like that in her security systemed house, where her father was upstairs in his office and the day light kept the shadows at bay.

It still scared her to think that he was out there. She knew there really was nothing she could do at this point but be extra careful. Still, it was scary. Not that Santana Lopez was scared, she didn't do that shit. That was for everyone else. Everyone but her.

So she got out of bed and resisted the urge to stretch, remembering her stitches. She walked to her dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a loose fitting shirt out. If she was going back she was going to be comfortable but she wouldn't be caught dead wearing a t-shirt to school or ever, for that matter. That was for everyone else. Everyone but her.

She changed slowly and then pulled out her phone.

_Coming to school today._

She sent the text to Brittany. She hadn't talked to Brittany since what had happened the previous night. Sure, it hadn't been a full day but Santana felt guilty about it still. It stirred something inside of her she didn't quite understand.

Her phone buzzed, Santana had gotten into the habit of keeping it on silent.

_Gonna come get u!_

She stared down at the phone. It felt good to fall back into a routine.

* * *

><p>They were sitting in the parked car in the parking lot of William McKinley High School.<p>

Going back had seemed like the best thing to do, but now that she was here, Santana was regretting the decision. She wanted to go home, crawl into bed and take Brittany with her. She wanted to stay there until her father and Officer Simpson found the asshole who had been terrorizing her and locked him away.

But she knew that wasn't how it worked and it shouldn't be how she worked.

Santana looked out the passenger seat window to the school. Students were filing into the double doors sluggishly, acting as if nothing had happened. But nothing had happened to them, it had happened to her. She wondered if the blood on the floor outside of the auditorium had been cleaned up. She wondered if she'd ever be able to go to the auditorium again without feeling terrified. Without feeling his hands in her hair...

"You okay?" Brittany asked softly from the drivers seat.

Santana nodded. "Yeah, it's just...gonna be a long day."

Brittany reached across the console and grabbed Santana's hand, lacing their fingers together and then wiggling them playfully. She smiled and Santana felt that maybe it wouldn't be too long a day with Brittany there.

"About last night," She began, looking down at their hands.

"Santana, really, let's not worry about it now, okay? Let's worry about you."

Then it hit Santana. She was tired of disappointing Brittany. She was tired of always being the one that was the focus in the relationship. It had always been that way, but now it just felt different. Bigger. Or smaller. Santana couldn't quite make out the feeling.

* * *

><p>Santana had remained silent during her first few classes. She didn't feel like talking and she was glad she had a reputation for being able to rip someone to shreds with just her words. No one bothered her or asked her about what happened. No one stared too long at the scars on her face that she had tried desperately to cover with make up. Her teachers didn't even press her to participate in the discussion, but Santana figured he was probably glad she was keeping quiet.<p>

When the bell rang she dragged her books to her next class. She had been excused from the rest of the week, Coach Sylvester taking pity on her after what had happened, after hearing the whole story. She still wore her her Cheerios uniform, but she was grateful for the long-sleeves they were allowed to wear during winter and she had opted for pants instead of a skirt. People didn't need to see her stitches. The uniform felt horrible against her skin but it came with the territory.

Coach Sylvester had only excused her because her father had asked Officer Simpson to pay her a personal visit, explaining the situation in it's entirety, once Santana had told them everything.

It had been weird, telling her father and Officer Simpson what happened. They had listened, silent, her father opening his mouth at certain intervals as if to say something but shutting it quickly, deciding to wait and let Santana finish. That was something she had been grateful for, that they let her talk.

"So we went to dinner and a movie and at the theater we saw...," Santana stopped, hand still on Brittany's.

"Saw what?" Officer Simpson asked, looking up from his notepad he had been scribbling on.

Santana shook her head. "It was just weird. We saw this guy and girl from school and they saw us and he smirked and I freaked out and then they left."

"Wait," Dr. Lopez interrupted. "You mean this guy smirked at you and left and this was the night you found someone in your room? Don't you think that's a little suspicious, Santana? Why didn't you tell me?"

"No, you don't understand," Santana said, free hand raising slightly in the air. "He was smirking at..." She stopped and looked at Brittany. She wanted Brittany to tell her what to do, what to say, but she knew that Brittany would only tell her it's okay and to lay everything out.

Santana couldn't do that. She couldn't, but she couldn't remember why she couldn't and that had been the hardest part of all.

"He smirked because we were there together," she said the words quickly, hoping they wouldn't catch what it meant, what they had been doing. "And the guy in my room wasn't built like this guy, he was a big guy, but not like Azimio big. Just like, football player big."

"And you said someone tackled you at that party?" Officer Simpson said slowly, flipping back a few pages on his small notepad.

"Yeah, like just out of nowhere and I was already...," She stopped. She didn't want to say she was drunk in front of her father and a police officer. "It was late and dark."

"Uh-huh," her father said, knowing she had been drinking.

"But then Brittany and I left the theater during the movie because...," she stopped again, eyes darting back to Brittany's. Shit, Santana knew this would be hard but not this hard, skirting around the details.

"I was feeling sick," Brittany said, voice even. "Santana took me, well, we went to that Koto place and I don't think the food liked my tummy."

Santana sighed and felt her shoulders relax, she hadn't even realized she was so tense. Brittany had changed her wording for Santana's sake, even though she hated that they couldn't be openly together. It made her feel loved and guilty all at the same time.

"So you came home?"

"Yeah," Santana said, picking up the story from there.

It had been a long talk. Once Santana had started talking the words started pouring out of her and she couldn't stop until she had reached the end, until she had told them everything she could.

Thinking about it all made her feel heavy. She made her way down the hallway to class, World Cultures. It would hopefully be an easy day, she didn't really feel like working too much or doing much of anything. She was already feeling tired and had started questioning why in the hell she had thought coming back to school early was a good idea.

She took her normal seat in class and laid her head on the desk, closing her eyes and praying for time to fly.

She heard a bag being put on the desk next to her and a chair scraping against the floor. She knew it was him before he even said anything.

"You okay?" Kurt said gently from her side, he was closer than she had anticipated.

"Mmm," she mumbled back, not feeling up to talking.

"Well, I have to say it's nice to have you back, Mercedes and I have been bored without your...razor-sharp take on the world around us," Kurt said.

Santana felt her lip curl up at the edge into her patented smirk., she couldn't help it and she found it made her want to sit up and talk, so she did and before she knew it, the bell had rung.

* * *

><p>Glee was the class she had been preparing herself for all day. She was grateful and surprised Kurt hadn't swooped into the classroom and tried to press her with questions and fuss over how she was feeling. Santana knew that it was concern people were showing for her but she couldn't help but want them to not ask. She wanted people to know she didn't need them to ask.<p>

When she walked into the choir room the reaction she got had not been one she expected.

The scenario had run through her head a few times, how she would be received at school. She knew she didn't need a welcoming parade like Berry or a ballad about how everyone was there for her like Finnocence but she knew that they would plan _something._ That they couldn't just let it go and realize it was _her_ shit to deal with and she didn't need anyone.

Except Brittany, of course, but that went without saying.

So when she entered the choir room on Thursday mid-morning she was shocked to see that no one paid her any more attention than they did any other way. Mercedes and Kurt had made it to class before Santana and offered her a slight head nod and a wave. Mike was spinning Tina around the room, laughing. Finn and Rachel were standing near the piano, leaning in close and whispering. Quinn and Puck were sitting in chairs, talking, they looked up when she entered.

"Yo, Lopez, not looking too hot today," Puck said, smug grin plastered across his face. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Screw you, Puckerman," Santana spat towards him. His smirk only grew and he turned his attention back to Quinn.

They weren't ignoring her, they were treating her like, what? Santana stood by the door way, searching for what she meant. They were treating her like it was any other day, like nothing had happened. But where was...?

"I talked to them," she said from beside Santana.

Santana turned towards Brittany. It was an automatic reaction her body did every time Brittany was close. Moving towards her, inching closer like she craved her.

"You talked to them?" Santana repeated.

Brittany linked her pinkie in Santana's. "They were mega concerned, San, like a lot a lot. But I told them the best thing they could do is leave you alone. Rachel didn't really believe me. I think she's perspiring against me over there with Finn."

"Conspiring, Britt," Santana said softly. "Perspiring means sweat."

"Oh," Brittany said, silent, thoughtful. "I always thought it was perspire, like in that Christmas song. Later on we'll perspire as we dream by the fire, because fire is hot."

Santana's eyes narrowed. It was times like these that she wasn't sure if Brittany was joking with her or being serious. She could never quite tell because Brittany's eyes always seemed to be gleaming in a way that Santana thought had meant she was kidding but had come to learn was just the way Brittany's eyes were.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schue said stepping out of his office and slamming a stack of music down on the piano.

Santana let Brittany pull her towards their usual chairs in the back row.

"Oh, Santana," Mr. Schue said when he noticed her.

Santana felt Brittany's pinkie tighten in hers, she felt the slight tension in the room as everyone resisted the urge to turn and look at her. She looked at Mr. Schue, waiting.

"Welcome back," he said and then continued with his lesson for the day.

Santana turned to look at Brittany who was watching Mr. Schue, smiling just slightly. Santana looked back to her teacher and felt alright with the world, with the way things were. She felt like everything was going to be okay and in a weird way she had never felt more loved or respected in her life. Even though they hadn't asked her how she was doing or how she was feeling, they had listened to Brittany and let her be. They had listened and made an effort to do what they thought was best for Santana, at Brittany's urging.

That was worth a lot to Santana and she wasn't exactly sure how.

* * *

><p>The rest of the school day had been a breeze. Santana wasn't bothered by students or teachers and when the final bell rang she couldn't help but smile when Brittany insisted she was going home with her. Santana couldn't say no to those blue eyes and that gorgeous hair and everything else about Brittany.<p>

"Sure, just let me tell my dad," Santana had replied. It was something new for her. She had never before had to let her father know what she was doing, whose house she was at or what party she was going to. It had always been just work around his schedule and keep it to yourself. Sneak. Santana was a professional at it after years of practice.

Her father had a long talk with her about her behavior until her stalker, because that was what he was officially being called now, was caught. How she could stay at Quinn's or Brittany's or at home, but no where else. How she was not allowed to be out after it was dark and she shouldn't go anywhere alone.

At first she had fought tooth and nail with him. It wasn't fair, she was a senior in high school, she should be allowed to stay out after dark. That had been the knee jerk reaction. When she calmed down and thought about it, though, she was a little grateful. Truth be told she had no desire to venture out after night but this way it wasn't because she was afraid, it was because her father said so.

But who was she kidding? She never would have listened to her dad.

She sent him a quick text message.

_Staying the night at Britts_

Brittany nodded and pulled out of the parking lot, heading home.

* * *

><p>Brittany spent the entire car ride telling Santana about how boring Wednesday had been without her there. How she couldn't wait until Santana was back to Cheerios and Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away and then it was Christmas and what did Santana want for Christmas anyway?<p>

"Haha, slow down, Britt, we haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving yet," Santana said as Brittany pulled into the driveway and parked the car.

"I'm just excited, San, you're here."

Santana turned to look at her and felt overwhelmed. Brittany was completely open and warm and everything Santana couldn't be. Everything Santana wanted to be for Brittany. She thought about the look on Brittany's face when she had jumped away from her last night. She thought about how it was daytime outside and Brittany's mom might be able to see them if she happened to be looking out a window.

"Me too, Britt," she said leaning across the console pressing her lips ever so softly against Brittany's.

Santana's eyes were closed but she could feel Brittany's smile.

* * *

><p>"Fuck," he whispered to himself, pacing his room again. It was a nervous habit he thought he had under control but every time he looked up and really thought about what he was doing he realized he was pacing. It was even harder at school where he saw her walking around as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't hurt her. He had, he knew he had, he had felt it. Felt her squirm.<p>

He shivered.

He crossed to his dresser and stopped, leaning against it, staring at his eyes in the mirror. "I don't want to do this anymore," he whimpered.

He grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and pulled hard, angry. So angry he needed to lash out.

There was a gentle knock on his bedroom door.

"What?" He barked angrily.

The door opened. "Are you alright in here? I heard stomping and then..."

"I'm fine," he snapped, releasing his shirt collar.

They fell into a silence. He felt like he was going to suffocate because it was too much and he couldn't be the one she expected right now. He had to be angry. He had to. He was losing and she was laughing at him. She was practically cackling in his ears and he wanted to shut her up, shut her up forever.

"Have you been taking your medicine because I found it in the hamper..."

"I'm fine," he yelled, grabbing his jacket from his bed and shoving his arms into the sleeves.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he barked, shoving past her and moving down the hallway.

"Your father will be home soon, just wait, honey," she said following behind him.

"I'm going out," he yelled, slamming the door behind him and jogging away from the house.

The air was cool and it was just getting dark.

* * *

><p>She ran down the hall and dove into the open bedroom. Her eyes darted frantically, looking for any place to hide. She chose the closet. She pulled the doors open, hoping the screech had gone unnoticed. She knew Brittany had already found a really good place to hide so now she could worry about herself.<p>

"I'm gonna get you," the voice called down the hall.

She felt her heart jump with fear, excitement, she dove into the closet and wrenched the door shut, trying to hide under Brittany's clothing and blankets. She felt hidden as well as she was going to be and tried to stay still, tried to calm her breathing.

She heard the soft tread of feet on the carpet in the hallway and her heart began to pound extraordinarily against her chest. She prayed that they moved further down the hall, to another room.

"I know you're in here."

She felt her heart flutter. The voice was close. Too close. Right outside the closet door.

Santana flung open Brittany's closet door and yelled, "Gotcha!" She lunged at Brittany's younger sister and relentlessly tickled her ribs.

"No," Kennedy cried over her laughing. "Stop, it hurts!"

"Alright, wuss," Santana said, sitting back on the floor and staring at the youngest Pierce daughter.

Kennedy sat up in the closet and looked at Santana, eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminded Santana of Brittany. "Why'd you stop?"

Santana chuckled and shook her head. "Let's go find your sister." She stood up.

"Hey," Brittany said, standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame.

"Hey," Santana said, turning to look at Brittany. "I'm supposed to come find you."

"But it sounded like you guys were having all of the fun," Brittany said crossing the room and sitting down beside Santana.

Santana shook her head. She would never admit to anyone how much she loved playing with Brittany's younger sister. She had wanted siblings when she was younger but then she had found Brittany. But sometimes she still wished she had a younger brother or sister. Maybe her house wouldn't have been as quiet.

"We were," Kennedy said in a serious voice.

"Girls," a voice called up the stairs.

"Yeah," they all three chimed in unison.

"Come here, please."

Santana pulled herself to her feet, slowly. She had forgotten about her injuries and her side now ached and her ankle felt sore. Hide and seek had not been the smartest choice, especially since this was round three.

"You okay?" Brittany asked softly as they made their way down the stairs, Kennedy bounding down quickly ahead of them.

"Just sore," Santana said, using the hand rail, something she had never had to do before.

She could see Brittany frowning.

"I'm fine, B. I promise. I only have like a grade one sprain or whatever. I can walk fine, it's not that big a deal," Santana said to reassure her. "My dad _is_ a doctor."

"Fine," Brittany said rolling her eyes. "But you say the word and we can ditch Kennedy and disappear to my room where you can relax."

Santana cocked her eyebrow at the word relax, wondering what that could mean, exactly.

"We're out of hot dog buns," Mrs. Pierce informed Brittany as they entered the kitchen. "I'm going to run to the store and grab some, unless you want something else for dinner?"

"Works for me," Brittany said, leaning against the counter, making faces at Kennedy.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?" Santana looked away from Brittany, at her mom.

"Hot dogs okay with you?"

"Totally," Santana replied. She wasn't sure why her opinion was being taken into consideration. She wasn't the one cooking.

"Well," Mrs. Pierce sighed. "Does anyone need anything?"

"Oh, me!" Kennedy piped up immediately. "I need to get sugar cubes."

Mrs. Pierce stared down at her youngest daughter for a while before asking. "And why in the world would you need sugar cubes?"

"I'm making a pyramid for class," Kennedy said slowly as if she was explaining the simplest thing.

"Of course you are," Mrs. Pierce replied nodding slowly. "Britt, need anything?"

"Nope, a-okay, momma," Brittany replied.

"Santana?"

Again, Santana was caught off guard. "I'm fine," she said slowly. "Thanks, though." She added it quickly, not wanting Mrs. Pierce to think she wasn't grateful. She was so grateful, just caught off guard.

"Alrighty, you're coming with me, crazy," Mrs. Pierce said mussing Kennedy's hair. "Gotta find pyramid supplies."

"Yes," Kennedy hissed skipping from the room to get ready to leave.

"Put socks on before you put shoes on," Mrs. Pierce called after her.

"Fine," Kennedy yelled back, sounding severely disappointed.

Santana couldn't help the half-smile that crept onto her face.

"That child, never a dull moment," Mrs. Pierce mumbled. "You gonna be fine here alone for a while?"

"Totally got this under control. Santana will probably wanna throw a party or something, but I promise, as the good daughter, I won't let that happen," Brittany said, face serious.

"Oh shut up," Santana said moving across the kitchen and bumping her hip against Brittany's

"Yes, well, your father should be home soon," Mrs. Pierce said grabbing her purse off of the counter. "Lock the door behind me, okay?"

Santana wondered if Mrs. Pierce was worried about Brittany's safety because Santana had a stalker. She secretly hoped not. Mrs. Pierce was like the mother Santana had never had. The mother that had never been around.

"Okay, mom," Brittany said rolling her eyes at Santana.

Santana forced a smile.

Mrs. Pierce left the kitchen. "Kennedy, let's go," Santana heard her calling up the stairs. Brittany followed her, to lock the front door, Santana followed.

After some pounding feet, a few more reminders to Brittany, and a scramble to find the keys to the van, Mrs. Pierce and Kennedy were gone and Santana and Brittany were left alone in the living room. Brittany locked the door and made her way towards Santana, slowly.

"How're you doing?" She asked it quietly, as if it were a secret.

Santana was standing by the couch. "I'm fine," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Just fine," Brittany said, stopping beside her. She lifted her hand and brushed a lock of hair behind Santana's ear. Santana closed her eyes at the contact.

"Fine," she said quietly.

"I want you to be more than fine," Brittany said softly, closer to Santana than she had been moments before.

Santana opened her eyes slowly, she was looking directly into blue. "I'm more than fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Brittany kept her hand against Santana's face. They stood like that for a moment. Then Brittany stepped closer and Santana felt her heart pick up it's pace, the way it always did when Brittany moved closer to her. She rested a hand on Brittany's hip, her default position.

"I'm going to kiss you, Santana," Brittany said, stepping closer still.

Santana exhaled a small laugh. "Okay," she replied.

* * *

><p>He had been stupid and forgotten his keys at home so he had to walk, at least he had his phone. But he ended up jogging which turned into running because the anticipation and the anger were mixing like a cocktail full of alcohol and he was just dizzy from all of it.<p>

He stopped outside of her house, it was just now dark, she would be here. He knew she wouldn't be out. He stopped in front of the house. The lights were out.

No one was home.

He felt the anger building in him again. Sometimes it would get to be too much and he would just black out and forget things so he had to keep it together. At least until he found her. And she wasn't here. She was hiding from her. She knew he was coming for her and was hiding.

That made him more angry than anything.

But...

There was one other place he knew she would be and maybe, just maybe, that made him so livid that he couldn't remember how to breath.

He started jogging again.

He started jogging until he was running again.

His legs were screaming. Beiste had worked them like dogs during practice today and he had run hard. But something else was taking over him now. He had to keep running to find her and stop her from...

Tormenting him.

The thoughts consumed him as he made his way to her house. He knew the way to her house. He had been there when he knew she had been hiding out from him. He had left a message. Killed that cat. He remembered the way it squirmed in his hands and he shuddered.

As he stood outside of it and hid behind the oak tree in the front yard.

As he watched them, through the venetian blinds.

He pulled out his phone.

* * *

><p>Santana felt her phone buzz in her pocket.<p>

She moved away from Brittany, who whined in protest. "It could be my dad," Santana said, voice quiet. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and stared at the screen.

Unknown caller.

Santana felt her heart stop. Her body froze, her hand gripped the phone.

"Santana what is it?" Brittany asked, eyes scanning Santana's face. She glanced down at the phone and took it.

"Don't answer it," Santana said, voice quiet.

Brittany looked at her then down at the phone. She answered it.

"Hello?"

"Time to finish what I started."

Santana watched as Brittany's head tilted slightly.

_BAM!_

It sounded like a gunshot echoing through the house, but Santana recognized the sound. A door being thrown open and slamming into the wall.

Santana was on her feet. She grabbed Brittany's hand and pulled her up to stand beside her. She held her breath, eyes searching the room, thinking what to do. She heard heavy foot steps pounding in the kitchen. "C'mon," she said pulling Brittany away from the kitchen and up the stairs.

He was here, in the house. He was here and he wanted to hurt her, he had done it before and he would do it again.

What was worse, though, Santana realized was that he could hurt Brittany. She couldn't let that happen. She squeezed Brittany's hand and pulled her up the stairs and down the hall, throwing them into Brittany's room. She shut the door and twisted the lock but nothing happened.

"Britt, what the fuck, your lock?" Santana said desperately trying to get it to turn.

"It doesn't work," Brittany said, voice strained.

"Fuck," Santana said, turning around and searching the room.

Adrenaline was pumping through her body, causing her heart to hammer. She felt as if she had a ton of energy to burn and no outlet. She was terrified, restless, worried about Brittany who was reacting slowly, who hadn't been through this before. Santana's only concern was getting Brittany to safety.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs.

"Shit," Santana said quietly. "We gotta get out of here."

A door down the hall was thrown open. Santana was reminded of the night he had first broken into her house, how she hid in the closet and waited for help. She knew that wasn't an option now.

"Shit, Brittany, we have to get out of here," Santana said crossing the room and grabbing her by the shoulders.

Something in Brittany seemed to wake up. Her eyes seemed to focus on Santana, as if she was being pulled out of a dream. "Okay," she said and moved away from Santana to the window. She opened it and popped the screen out, it slid down the incline of the roof and stopped, caught in the gutters.

"Where the fuck are you?" The voice yelled down the hallway. He was close, really close.

"We have to go out this way," Brittany said, stepping through the window. Santana crossed to it and looked out, Brittany was scooting out towards the ledge. "Come on, San."

Santana moved carefully. She felt sore all over. Her body ached but the adrenaline kept her moving and so did the sound of heavy, angry footfalls just outside the door. Santana was halfway out of the window when the door burst open, causing her to jump. She yelled in shock and there he was, staring at her.

"You," she said, mouth hanging open slightly.

"I'll kill you," he roared, crossing the room quickly.

Santana threw herself out of the window onto the roof. Brittany was already at the edge. Santana felt fingers brush against her feet as she just managed to get away. She crawled towards Brittany, too afraid to look back.

"I'll go first, you jump down when I get up, I'll help break your fall," Brittany said as she leaned her body off of the edge of the roof, dangling freely.

Santana turned and looked. He was crawling through the window, yelling profanities and words Santana couldn't make out over the pounding in her ears.

"Santana, come on," Brittany called.

Santana looked down, Brittany was standing in the grass, looking up, anxious. Santana turned around and lowered her legs over the edge, gripping onto the gutters. She felt her body stretching, her stitches stinging as her skin moved. She turned to look at the ground and Brittany below her. She turned to look at the window as she let go and felt herself falling.

But he was no longer waiting in the window.

She hit the ground hard, Brittany trying to help catch her and make the landing easier. They both ended up crumpled on the ground. Santana's body was aching all over. She felt weak and was shaking slightly. She couldn't tell if it was the adrenaline causing her to react or the fear. Where had he gone?

Brittany helped her stand. Santana's ankle was aching again and she could swear she felt it swelling again. She tried to put weight on it, but it hurt too much. She had landed on it wrong.

"He wasn't in the window, he's coming for us," Santana said, panting, holding on tightly to Brittany.

"We can get to a neighbor," Brittany said firmly, starting towards the neighbors house which was only yards away.

Santana held her breath. If only they could just get there. If only she could put more weight on her ankle and walk or jog or do something more than weigh Brittany down.

"I saw his face, Brittany, it's..."

_Wham_

He came out of nowhere. Santana felt the impact but Brittany caught the full force, screaming as she hit the ground. Santana was knocked out of the way instead of being taken down with them. She still hit the ground, her legs still unstable. She pushed herself up onto her knees and tried to stand.

He was sitting on top of a screaming Brittany. Santana saw something glint off of the garage light that was just barely reaching them from their position on the left side of the house. Santana pushed herself to her feet and, ignoring the pain in her leg, dove into the stalker, like he had dove onto her.

They tumbled sideways, Santana rolling off of him and landing on her back. She felt breathless. She felt like the skin where her stitches were had ripped, her left leg felt almost useless and she was shaking, almost uncontrollably. She was barefoot and freezing and terrified. She tried to push herself up to look and see if Brittany was okay but a heavy weight landed on her chest and forced her to the ground.

He was sitting on top of her, yelling at her. Santana felt rough hands make their way to her neck and squeeze. It hurt in a new way. She brought her hands up and tried to pull his off of her but knew she wasn't nearly strong enough. She reached up and tried to claw at his face, do anything to stop him, do anything to hurt him but she couldn't reach and she just wasn't strong enough.

"You fucking dyke," he spat at her. "I should have killed you in the auditorium."

Santana's eyes widened and she felt her hands fall to her side. She gasped, panicking because now she really couldn't get any air or anything. She was dying. She was being choked to death.

Santana closed her eyes and latched her hands onto his wrists and then...

The grip slackened and his weight shifted. He fell forward, chest falling onto Santana's face. She felt like she was suffocating, she had been moments before, though. She pushed the body and felt it shift, someone was rolling it off of her.

She rolled over onto her stomach, away from him and coughed hard. She couldn't stop coughing. Her throat burned and ached and she gasped in huge gulps of the cool night air as if she couldn't get enough. As if she could never get enough.

She felt a soft hand on her back. "Brittany?" She asked, voice a whisper. Her throat hurt so much.

"Y-yeah," Brittany said, voice quivering.

Santana pushed herself up into a sitting position. Brittany was kneeling beside her, shaking. "What happened?"

"I uh," Brittany paused and looked over at the body. "I hit him with a r-rock from the garden."

Santana coughed again and let herself fall forward, leaning against Brittany. She felt so tired, so weak. She could feel Brittany trembling.

"I think I k-killed him, San," she said softly.

"No, you're fine, you're perfect," Santana whispered.

"What the hell is happening out here? It sounds like someone is being murdered?" The voice yelled from their right. It was Brittany's neighbor. He had turned on his porch lights and was leaning over the railing of the porch, looking at the two girls. Santana ignored him, she sat up and looked over Brittany's face before leaning their foreheads together.

* * *

><p>Everything moved in a blur.<p>

Or like she had done this all before. But she had, hadn't she? Just a couple of days ago...

She remembered Brittany talking with the neighbor who stood awkwardly nearby. She remembered sirens arriving in front of the Pierces house. She remembered watching as police officers came and told her she had to come with them. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, though, making sure he didn't get up and surprise anyone and get to Brittany. Or get to her.

She remembered Mrs. Pierce and Kennedy arriving. She remembered the look of horror and concern and love on Mrs. Pierces face when she pulled Brittany into her arms and she remembered crying and apologizing over and over again when Mrs. Pierce pulled her into a hug of her own.

It was a rough night for all parties involved. The paramedic told her she needed to go back to the hospital, that her stitches had reopened. Brittany's mom drove them. The ambulance that had arrived was used to take him away. He had been knocked out hard by Brittany and now he had to be roused or something. The words had gotten fuzzy and Santana felt fuzzy.

When Santana arrived at the ER with the three Pierce women her father was waiting outside in the cold, dressed in green scrubs. He looked worse than Santana had ever seen him and he wrapped her in his arms quickly, squeezing hard, even though she protested he was hurting her and her now open stitches.

He took her back to a bed in the ER and began to restitch. Santana was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her. She was so tired and felt so weak. She kept a hold of Brittany the entire time, though. She looked tired too, but kept offering Santana small smiles every time they would look up at each other.

They were given a moment alone when the parents were asked to sign forms, answer questions or something. Santana couldn't quite remember. She felt so tired.

"I think I killed him, San," Brittany had whispered.

Santana shifted on the hospital bed they were sharing and turned to look at Brittany. "No, you didn't. You saved me. You fucking saved my life."

Brittany offered a small smile that cracked too quickly. Santana reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise, Britt, I promise." She felt like she was drunk. Her words slurred, but just slightly. She was so tired.

"I dunno, S-san, what if he dies?" Santana watched as Brittany's lower lip began to quiver, a tell-tale sign she was about to cry.

"No, he's fine, I promise," she repeated again. She wanted to say so many other things. Tell Brittany so much. How grateful she was to have her, how much she loved her, how sorry she was about being so stupid and thinking it had mattered to keep it a secret, keep her a secret. How selfish.

It all had weirdly clicked. When he was strangling her all she could think about was Brittany. All Santana could think about was the way Brittany smiled and how she was brilliant and glowing and how Santana had tried to stifle that because she was afraid of what people would say to her. Afraid.

But now she had experienced real fear, real terror.

Everything else just paled in comparison.

She leaned against Brittany and whispered nothings to her, feeling her self drift off. She couldn't remember much of what happened the rest of the night. People woke her up at different times to ask questions or say something to her that she would simply nod at and close her eyes again.

She did however remember hearing him screaming from the other side of the ER about killing that 'fucking dyke' and how her father had to be restrained. Had it been any other moment in her life she would have yelled back at him, made a remark to play off the fact that she wasn't a lesbian. Done something to distract from what he was saying but now. Now all she felt capable of doing was sleeping.

So she slept.

* * *

><p>Luckily for Santana Officer Simpson had taken a special interest in her case.<p>

It was Saturday. Santana had been skipped school on Friday and so had Brittany. They had spent the day together at the Pierce household. Brittany's mom had taken off of work and stayed with them, fixing them food, letting them lounge around and watch movies, she even let them order one off of the premium movie channels.

They sat close together on the couch. Santana ended up lying down and resting her head on Brittany's lap. She closed her eyes when she felt Brittany's nimble fingers running through her hair, tickling the skin on the back of her neck and tracing the outline of her ear. It was gentle and comforting and everything Santana wanted and needed.

"Need anything?" Brittany's mom asked.

Santana's eyes shot open and her body stiffened but she wouldn't let herself move. She tried to relax but it was hard, what she was doing was hard. So hard.

"I'm good," Brittany said. "San?"

"Fine," Santana replied, voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat. "I'm fine, thanks, Mrs. P."

"Alright, well," Santana heard the hesitation in Brittany's mothers voice. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay," Brittany replied simply, she continued running her hand through Santana's hair.

When Santana heard retreating footsteps she exhaled a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at Brittany who was smiling down at her.

"What?" Santana asked, feeling her lips turn up at the corners just from looking at Brittany. She was intoxicating and contagious.

"You know what," Brittany said smoothing down Santana's hair with her left hand and cupping her face with her right. "You know what."

"Dunno what you mean," Santana said, smirking up at the blonde. Her heart was pounding and she still felt nervous, realizing what she was doing, what she was finally letting herself do. Brittany's hands on her, that was enough though, that was more than enough to quell the bad feelings and make Santana feel at home.

They spent the rest of the day, wrapped up in each other, Santana ignoring what she thought the world might think of them.

But Santana had returned home that night. She had gone straight to bed, feeling exhausted. Her ankle hurt and she walked with a very noticeable limp, but refused to use crutches. She compromised with her father by wearing a brace. It helped, but she hated the way it looked.

Santana had been upstairs dozing when her father called for her to come down. She pulled on sweats and made her way slowly downstairs. She found her father in the living room, but not alone.

"Officer Simpson," she said, taking a seat on the chair set adjacent to the couch.

"Santana, how're you feeling?"

Santana shrugged. "Fine," she said. She did feel fine. He was caught. He was locked away. He was gone from her life. She was good.

Maybe she had a few things to work through, maybe she still wasn't sleeping in her bedroom, but right now she was just trying to make it through the day and heal. She could worry about everything else later.

"The reason I'm here," Officer Simpson began looking from Santana to Dr. Lopez and back again. "I wanted to talk to you about your stalker."

"Michael Lear," Santana said, voice low, eyes narrowed. The name felt weird in her mouth, like an oddly rubbery piece of meat you wanted to spit out immediately. It had all clicked when she saw his face. Michael had topped off her cup of alcohol at his party and then she was almost instantly drunk. He was a football player, had been the one to see Santana kissing Brittany in the hall. He was friends with Azimio.

"Yes, Michael Lear," Officer Simpson said gently. "He's being transferred from our juvenile system to a psychiatric ward."

"Can you tell us this?" Dr. Lopez asked, sitting up straighter on the couch.

"Well, it isn't really something that I shouldn't not tell," he replied slowly.

Dr. Lopez merely nodded.

"So he was crazy?" Santana asked, crossing her arms.

"He was a paranoid schizophrenic. After looking farther into it he was kicked out of his last school for threatening a girl."

"And they just let him back into school with normal kids?" Santana felt angry.

"I know it's a complicated situation but I thought you'd like to know that he didn't do it because of anything," Officer Simpson said, choosing his words carefully. "The last girl he picked on wasn't..." He stopped. "He just happens upon a girl. He doesn't pick them because of any specific reason. He isn't doing it because of hate."

Santana felt herself immediately go on high alert. He was touching too close to things he shouldn't even know about. She didn't like it. She searched his face carefully. "Thank you," she said, stiffly.

"Sure, I'm glad this was resolved, finally," he said standing.

"Me too," said Dr. Lopez, joining him.

"Lucky your uh, friend Brittany was there to save you," Officer Simpson said, standing by Santana's chair.

Santana kept her eyes focused away from the two men. She nodded and heard her dad leading him out the front door.

It had been more than luck.

Santana thought about Brittany, about everything she had ever been and done for Santana. She thought about how patient she was, how loving and kind and gentle when Santana was the complete opposite. When Santana was angry and hidden and uncertain.

She knew exactly what she needed to do.


	14. Chapter 14 or The Epilogue

**AN: **Surprise! I know I've been counting down chapters and this one shouldn't really exist, but if it were 13 chapters then the stalker kinda wins in my head. So here you go.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue or Chapter 14<strong>

**Three Weeks Later**

Santana Lopez was running late. Not really late, but late enough for it to be irksome. She had big plans for the day after all. Big plans that had taken a lot of time and thought and courage. It was Monday morning and Santana only had two more days of school left until she was on Thanksgiving break. She couldn't have asked for better timing, really.

It had taken a lot of work to get Santana to where she was now. Not the kind of work she was used to. It wasn't like doing homework for hours or slaving over a Cheerios routine. It was internal work, work she was unfamiliar with and that was why it had taken three weeks. Well, it had taken being stalked, terrorized, thirteen stitches and three weeks of reflection to get to the point she was at now.

Oh yeah and one long talk with Dr. Lopez.

It had happened two Saturdays ago. Santana woke up to find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading at the kitchen table. She had grabbed herself a mug, poured some coffee and sat across from him. He looked up to acknowledge her, smiling and then returned to his paper.

This had happened more and more. The two of them, sharing coffee in the morning. Not every morning, her dad was still a doctor and still had to work weird hours but he was around a lot more now. He had even learned her classes and teachers. At first she had hated the fact that he thought he could just waltz into her business but she learned to appreciate the fact that when he asked how her day was he wasn't trying to be nosy, he was trying to be a father.

She sat across from him. "Dad, we need to talk."

He hesitated for just a moment, like a movie catching for one second before playing again, as if there was a tiny scratch on the disk. "About?"

"About me."

He sighed and folded his paper up, pushing it aside. "Okay."

Santana held onto her coffee mug with both hands. She hadn't worked past what she would say when he was ready to listen. She had spent all of her energy working up the courage to just talk to him, knowing what she was planning on doing.

She felt her mouth go dry and her palms felt cold.

"It's about me and Brittany," Santana said slowly, trying to generate some type of spit in her mouth. She picked up the coffee mug and took a small sip, then another.

Dr. Lopez made no move to respond.

Santana swallowed hard and pressed on. She could do this. She wanted to do this. "We're uh," she stopped and hated herself for it. This wasn't Santana Lopez. Santana Lopez didn't fucking stutter. "We're dating and I love her."

Santana continued to stare at the contents of her coffee mug. She didn't want to look at her father. She wasn't scared she was just...giving him time to adjust. Time to figure out his feelings.

"Is this because you didn't have a mother?"

Santana was so shocked she felt like he had slapped her. The words hurt her in a way she didn't fully understand. "What?"

"Is it because I wasn't around?"

She felt like he was accusing her. She felt like he was being hostile and she felt the anger bubble in her. "It's not some fucking phase. I've been in love with her for four years. Forever." She knew she sounded like one of those lame teenagers who probably didn't understand what love meant, but it was how she felt and it was time to stop not letting herself feel.

He was quiet for a long time and Santana sat, stewing in her own rage.

"I'm not going to lie, Santana," he began suddenly, voice a lot more firm than she had anticipated. She felt her heart begin to quicken. "No one wishes their child to be gay, it makes life harder and I don't want that for you. But you're my daughter and I want you to be happy and if Brittany makes you happy..." He stopped and seemed to be looking her over as if really taking her in. "I have no choice than to be happy for you."

Santana nodded slowly. "Thanks."

Dr. Lopez unfolded his paper and handed her the section he had just finished reading.

Santana unfolded the paper and laid it out in front of her. She wasn't reading the words, though. She was thinking, mind working quickly. He was okay with it. It was okay. She was okay. She was more than okay. She felt light, like a weight had been lifted, like the world was suddenly a brighter place. The anger fizzled out.

It made her big plans for today easier, when she thought back on how easy it had been to come out to her father when she actually made herself do it.

She backed her car out of the driveway and made her way to Brittany's.

Big plans.

* * *

><p>When Santana arrived at Brittany's she found her waiting outside, dressed warmly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. When Santana parked Brittany raced to the car and threw herself into the warm interior.<p>

"Hey," Brittany said, ever chipper in the morning.

"Hey," Santana said, backing out of the driveway.

"What?" Brittany asked looking at Santana, eyes slightly narrowed.

"What?" Santana replied. She could feel herself smirking and she couldn't stop.

"What are you up to?"

"Oh, you'll see," Santana said, keeping her eyes on the road and deliberately off of Brittany.

* * *

><p>They walked into William McKinley High School and sighed, grateful to be in the heat. Santana felt Brittany's hand on hers, then felt her link their pinkies together. Santana shook her hand loose and laced their fingers together, pulling her down the hallway.<p>

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked, stopping and looking down at their hands. Santana watched as Brittany looked up at her then let her eyes dart around the hallway, taking in the people who were staring at them, because people were always staring at them.

Santana wondered if she had looked that worried or upset every time she thought someone was thinking maybe something more was going on with them. She hated the look and wondered how Brittany had been able to look at that for years. But she knew how she could, because Brittany loved her more than anyone had ever loved her and probably ever would. Santana remembered how light she had felt when she told her father and felt her resolve stronger than ever.

Santana reached a hand up and cupped Brittany's face, smiling. She leaned forward and kissed Brittany. Soft lips on soft lips in front of everyone in the hallway. She even kept her eyes open. She pulled away, gently. No rush, no secrets. She had wanted to kiss away the confusion etched on Brittany's face.

"People are watching," Brittany said, lips curling up slowly into that bright, warm Brittany smile that was worth the world to Santana.

Santana shrugged. "Let them."

She kissed Brittany again and again and again.


End file.
